


The Chronicles of Life and UnLife

by WerepuppyBlack



Series: Chronicles of UnLife [1]
Category: Young Dracula
Genre: Gen, Self-Harm, possible triggers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-10-31
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-25 14:17:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 28,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/271211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WerepuppyBlack/pseuds/WerepuppyBlack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seven years after he claimed his crown, meet the emotionally dead to the world Vlad Dracula, youngest Grand High Vampire in history, and his odd-even-for-a-breather friend Robin. Things are not as they seem, as life never turns out the way you plan</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Past Seven Years: Robin's Tale

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted at fanfiction.net -
> 
> Okay, so this is an odd one ... Technically, it's the beginnings - if you like - to the mentioned-in-my-profile-page Hellsing saga. A sequel of sorts to YD that takes place when Vlad's 21. So, erm, yeah. Read, review ... and be aware this was /hard/ to write.

I don't quite know how I made it to the age of 21.

My life wasn't the picture perfect suburban fantasy that it should have, by all rights, been. Right down to the fluorescent coloured building. Something right of a Tim Burton movie. I can never quite pinpoint where it all went wrong, or even why it all went wrong. It just, well it did really. I was the middle child, more or less, the overlooked one in the family. Not exactly unfavoured, but it wasn't unusual for my particular likes and dislikes to be forgotten amongst my brothers and sister's. How did my deeply eloquent brothers put it, oh yes. I was the 'weirdo Goth child' of the family, and my parents should be grateful that their other children turned out normal, and just to forget me.

I often wonder what my parents decide against doing just that. It's not like it would have helped either way. Wouldn't have stopped any of this.

I suppose never having a real friend is a great contributor to it. People piss and moan about how their friends never really understand them, and how they're alone in this big wide world. To those people I said only thing: you have no idea what being alone feels like. To have everyone in the school hate you for no other reason than liking creatures that were supposedly fictional. To have that hate only increase your interest in these creatures, if only because they took shit from no one.

I had a friend. Once upon a time. He was a vampire, well … not quite a vampire when I knew him, but still. He was what I so badly wanted to be. Odd the day that they first moved into the neighbour was the day I was so tempted to just end it all there and then. But yes, my friend. He was…unique. Destined to be the greatest leader of vampires there ever was, and possibly ever would be. Just a pity that becoming a vampire was the last thing he wanted. But there was a battle, and he had to accept his position whether he wanted to or not. He made us forget all about vampires.

And then he was gone.

I remember not long after the battle, how could I not? I'd been a vampire geek for a long while before he had shown up, and I'd worked out what he was within the first half hour of meeting him. Like he could make me forget forever.

Somehow it's worse to go through life alone, knowing what it was life to have had a friend.

I was always bullied at school, but without him around to shoulder it with him it seemed worse. Everything seemed worse. I got quieter, retreated back into a shell I thought I'd gotten rid of ages ago. Turns out it was like I was a turtle, sticking my head out into the sun for only a short while, before hiding away again. My brothers were the worse of the bullies, how could I escape the people I lived with? Eventually my parents did give up, Mum tried not to, she still tries bless her, but we both know I'm a hopeless case.

I made it through school, just, scraping through my exams by the skin of my teeth, and getting into a local uni that I commuted to. I just … it sounds pathetic, but I can't feel anything anymore. I don't have a reason to believe in anything, to believe in life. Can someone please give me a reason to believe? I fell into the cliché, I self harm. I don't do it because it's the only way I can express my pain, or because life is just too hard. No, it's much more simple than that. If I feel the pain, then I know I'm still alive. If not, well then, it's finally over.

I wonder what would happen if I were to just … push the blade in?


	2. The Past Seven Years: Vlad's Tale

I don't quite know how I made it to the age of 21.

My life is something straight out of a gothic fairy tale. The vampire prince, with power above all others, destined to rule his people, to lead them towards glory. I learned quickly that fairy tales are exactly that: tales. Nothing to aspire to, and definitely not anything you can live your life by. I never wanted to be a vampire, I never wanted to be a slave to a lust for blood. It just happens that fate is a cruel master, and decided that the desk of cards that was my life was going to turn out any other way than the way I wanted it.

Typical really, when I think on it.

So … I ran. What else could I do? I was a child, I wasn't old enough to take on the responsibility that was expected of me. How would I know what to do? How would I know who I could trust and who I was to avoid? How would I be able to properly lead a species I wanted to distance myself from so very much? Running away was the only option I could think of at the time that would have had any effect. So, like I said, I ran. Don't think I've ever stopped running, if I'm honest.

I ran so far, and I end up in Budapest eventually. There's a war going on there, between the vampires and the werewolves and the hybrids. A long started war that doesn't look like it'll end anytime soon. Fortunately the vampires in Budapest were unaware of the change in power, due to the war preoccupying their time. It's understandable. The Slayers had gotten in on the war as well, killing anyone who even dared to look at them the wrong way.

… I never quite realised how thick blood was before, how red it was … how filling it was. I guess I'm more of a vampire than I ever feared I might be. Explains why I hate myself so much, really.

I came back to Stokley eventually, blood staining my fangs and my hands. I had to come back, I'd ran so far I had no where else to go but home. I was so very tired of constantly running. It came to me eventually that I was running from something that I couldn't run from, how can you run from what you were destined to me? I tried the screw destiny route, trust me, it doesn't work.

Stokley seems so much smaller now, so much more bland and duller than it did when I was younger. Maybe that's a good thing, a sign that I'm getting used to what I am. I suppose I am used to it in a way, fighting in a war that's not your own does that to you. I know that its not changed, I know that it's just me, but it's easier to think it's the town that's changed, to attempt to pretend that I still have normality in me, even if just for a little bit.

I found Robin again. Sitting up by the ruins at the hill up behind the castle. He's become worryingly thin. He didn't notice me, he wouldn't - I'm too good at keeping myself hidden now. He was sitting staring out at the castle, turning something over in his hands. I wish, I really really wish, that as good as vampire eyesight is, it would let me see something almost hidden to me. I smelt the blood before I saw anything.

In less than five seconds I was pulling him from the ground, throwing the blade away, and shaking him so much it seemed though his head might fall from his neck. I did mention he's got worrying thin didn't I?

"What the hell do you think you're fucking doing? Nothing in life is so bad that you do completely stupid like this? What the hell were you thinking? Where you even fucking thinking? Robin … what the hell!"

He just looked up at me, his face blank. When he spoke, it was in the smallest voice I've ever heard, but at the same time it was the loudest thing in the world.

"… You came home."


	3. Coffee

"What was it like? Seeing it all?"

"… You really don't want to know Robin," Vlad replied, sipping at the coffee with a small scowl. Robin had insisted on dragging them to a recently opened trendy coffee bar, to 'catch up'. From the look on Vlad's face, it was as though he would prefer to be anywhere than there at that particular moment in time. He found the coffee to bland for his tastes, if he were to be perfectly honest. "And it's not exactly something I'm in the habit of speaking of," he added quickly, noticing Robin opening his mouth to ask another question on the subject.

Robin kept noticing how harsh Vlad's voice sounded now. It was like he was a different person entirely. Which was quite possibly the best analogy he could come up with, his mind reasoned quickly. After all, the vampire merging experience gave all those born vampires their true state, if you liked. He wondered if it was a painful experience.

"More painful than you could imagine," Vlad's new harsh voice cut through his thoughts, causing Robin to jump slightly.

"… I thought vampires can't read minds?" He asked eyes wide as he stared at Vlad with something akin to fear - an emotion which he would have never connected with his friend before.

"We can't," Vlad replied simply, a smirk crawling on to his face slowly,

"Then how …?" he asked, blinking in confusion. Though he had once considered himself an expert on all vampiric knowledge, knowing Vlad and his family had changed all of that all too quickly for his own liking, but it was decidedly fun at the same time.

"It's just far too easy to work out what you're thinking," Vlad explained. Robin took this in, nodding slightly, before chucking a small packet of sugar at the vampire - which, of course, he dodged. Damn vampire reflexes. You really couldn't mess with someone who'd mastered them. "Robin," Vlad said slowly, looking up from his coffee, his face oddly blank. "I don't think we should …"

"Don't say it," Robin cut in quickly, somehow knowing what Vlad wanted to say. "Don't say you don't think we should be friends anymore because you don't know what it's like." Vlad stared at him. "When you first did that mind wipe, you made me forget I ever had a friend in the first place, at least on the surface. But my subconscious could remember, and I felt more lonely than I'd ever felt before. It's one thing to go through life never having a friend, you don't know what your missing, but to have one and then be forced to live life, knowing what it was like but knowing you'll never have one again?" Robin looked up at Vlad, his eyes suddenly hard, and just terrifying enough to make the Grand High Vampire squirm in his seat.

"You can't understand what it feels like Vlad, and you won't, not in your state. So please, don't say you don't think we can still have our friendship anymore because maybe vampires can live with that awful feeling, but I don't think brea … I don't think _humans_ can."

Vlad stared silently at Robin after the outburst, dimly noting that he had become far more eloquent in the seven year he'd been away. He then wondered if that's what Robin was referring too, his new tendency to simply shrug off anything emotional, looking at everything with the same cold eye. In his own opinion, he'd seen far too much death, caused far too many deaths, to let anything affect him anymore.

Maybe he needed some help trying to rebuild some emotion.

"You're right," he said simply, leaning back in his seat. And that was that, nothing more was said on the subject. "What did you want to know?"

"Everything," Robin replied quickly

And so, Vlad told him.

Everything.


	4. Stories and Slayers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: And another new chapter of this fic. I'll be honest with you all, I'm never quite sure where this one is going, but luckily, apparently it does. There'll be another note at the end to explain something within the story, so I hope you enjoy it and review please. Seriously, feedback is a wonderful thing and I do enjoy it.

They meet at the coffee bar a few times a week; Vlad won't let him up to the castle anymore. Robin isn't particularly bothered by this; at least he still has his friend. The coffee is always lukewarm by the time they get it, and never really to either of their tastes, but the bar offers a reprieve from both of their disappointing lives, so they make out as though they're drinking the best coffee in the word. Somehow the pretend slowly becomes real, as their taste buds become used to the taste. At least, Robin's did. Vlad still wore the same brief expression of distaste every time he took a mouthful. Robin often wondered if it was a side effect from drinking blood, that nothing else tasted right. Then again, it could just be something that was uniquely Vlad; Robin had no real way of working out which was the correct answer.

His mind had a morbid habit of turning back to the stories Vlad told him of his time away, of the battles he had been in, the fights he had won and lost, the slayers who he had dined on.

To try to combat the images that came with the thoughts, images of Vlad drenched in blood, looking more monster than human, Robin spoke loudly, regaling his friend with tales of his family, of his brothers and his sister. Chloe had joined them a couple of times for coffee, a slight blush on her cheeks when re-meeting Vlad. She always had had a crush on him, and judging by the lustful glances he seemed to attract, it was apparent that Vlad had inherited those good looks that were always connected with his family line. Robin highly doubted it was all down to vampire pheromones.

When he voiced this thought to Vlad, mentioning Chloe's crush at the same time, the vampire just smirked over his coffee cup. It didn't stop the dark, hypnotic, glances that he seemed to be sending Chloe on the few times she met up with them, nor the light teasing touches. Robin didn't know whether to laugh, or to punch Vlad right in his smirking mouth. Chloe didn't seem to care, enjoying the small flirtations Vlad shared with her. They even went on 'proper' dates, from which Chloe always came back with a dreamy expression, floating back to her bedroom. Mrs Branagh seemed delighted, Mr Branagh muttered about 'bad influences', and Ian and Paul seemed indifferent - Vlad may be a freak, but he was a freak who was also a decent rugby player with an attractive older sister. Robin threatened Vlad with a stake if he dared to hurt, feed, or even thinking of feeding off of his little sister. Vlad just smirked, so Robin punched him in the mouth.

There didn't seem to be as many dates after that

On the odd occasion, Vlad would tell Robin stories of his own family as well, Ingrid in particular, as Robin always had had a soft spot for her. Her fury at Will's death had been someone mourning for their mate, the breaking of a deep bond that many vampires feared taking, but that Will and Ingrid had. There was also the small complication of her being the in early stages of pregnancy when Will was slain, so there was the horrified thought that her child would grow up without knowing its wonderful father - because Vlad did agree that Will was far more decent than the vampire boy their grandparents wanted Ingrid to marry.

Robin wondered why Vlad kept speaking in the present tense about someone who was seven years dead, before he remembered Vlad's particular skill in dark alchemy - necromancy really - the raising of the dead.

As it transpired, Ingrid, Will, their daughter Erika, and their son Rica were all living in the Dracula's old castle just outside of Bistritz, with Ingrid being happier than Vlad could ever remember her being. He remarked that finding a mate could do that to a vampire, especially if it resulted in children. It was part of vampire biology trying to make sure that they didn't become extinct by their own destructive natures. Despite his long lasting crush on Ingrid, Robin couldn't help but feel incredibly pleased for the couple. When it really got down to it, Robin was just glad Ingrid hadn't chosen one of his idiotic brothers as her mate. Vlad visited them often enough, his niece and nephew being a good mix of both Ingrid and Will's temperaments, with none of their grandfather's old fashioned out look on the vampire life. Speaking of the Count, he was oddly delighted at being at grandfather, though Vlad confided in Robin that he suspected it was only because it meant their mother, Magda, was now a grandmother, something which they had long known she would detest.

Between the pair of them, they made sure that their conversation never entered a territory that neither were ready to be in. It would appear, however, that the annoying destiny that followed Vlad no matter where he tried to hide was not for being ignored.

Jonno Van Helsing went to the same local university as Robin, though Robin wasn't quite sure what course he was on - it seemed to be something along the lines of technology. Not long after Vlad had taken his crown, Mr and Mrs Van Helsing reaffirmed their vows, getting back together and even buying a proper house just down the road from Robin. It appeared as though Mr Van Helsing never would remember being a slayer, or the existence of vampires, but he seemed happier for not knowing, and Robin would never wish his happiness gone.

Jonno Van Helsing was a different case altogether. If Vlad was the Chosen One of the vampires, it was highly suspected that Jonno was the Chosen One of the Slayers, containing a natural instinct greater than the ones belonging to the tactical division of the Slayer's Guild. He had only one target, and trained to take that one target down, though he had quickly beaten his father's, and even the infamous Kurt's record for slayings.

He walked into the coffee bar, his arm slung round some pretty redhead who wore a low cut top and a high hemmed skirt. Robin had stared for a second; the girl had been attractive, before shaking his head and looking away quickly. Jonno's instinct had reappeared back when they were still at school, and Robin had been a perfect practise punching bag because, even though he wasn't a vampire, he was close enough as they would come to one now that the Dracula's seemed to have gone into hiding. (The Count would loudly protest against that which is why Robin never thought of mentioning it.)

Vlad had stopped, his cup half way to his mouth, before turning slightly, his head titling slightly to the side, as he studied Jonno with an emotionless stare. Jonno, in turn, had glared back, frowning deeply over at Vlad, his fingers flexing into a fist, with his knuckles becoming lighter due to the pressure of his grip. The redhead he was with took no notice, smiling coyly at Vlad, who didn't return the smile, turning back to his coffee.

Jonno and his date left soon after that.

Robin had question Vlad with a glance, wondering what the semi confrontation had been about, wondering if it could even be considered a confrontation if no fist were thrown. Vlad had smirked once more - he seemed to have gotten into the habit of smirking instead of answering the questions put to him - but did answer Robin. He knew about Jonno's status within the Guild, of course he did, he was the Grand High Vampire after all, it was his job to know. It was also part of the reason he had chosen to return to Stokley, something which made Robin glare sourly before Vlad added that his return was largely due to simply wanting to come home.

"So what," he asked, "it'll be a fight to the death? Chosen Slayer versus Chosen vampire, to see which side is truly victorious?" Robin waited for an answer from Vlad, who looked to considering the question very carefully indeed.

"Perhaps," he said finally. "Or maybe I'll just snap his neck."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: the names chosen for Ingrid and Will's children are Romanian names, which I carefully researched before choosing. Rica is masculine, meaning 'dominant ruler' and Erika is feminine, meaning 'ruler forever'.


	5. Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: A lot short compared to the last chapter I know, but this is mostly a filler one, explaining one little niggly point that always got to me, and that will probably become a plot point for this 'verse in it's own right

The next time they met up, Will was with him. He and Ingrid had come over from Bistritz, so that Will's parents could come. They were aware that Will was a vampire, and that he'd settled down with another vampire, but as Vlad remarked, it seemed that they didn't really understand it. Or chose not to. Anyway, having the wedding in Stokley meant they could see their grandchildren. Truthfully, Robin was quite surprised to see Will. It was like he'd hardly changed from his human self, almost completely loosing that attitude he'd gained on becoming a vampire. As far as vampires went, Will was as close to a pacifist as their nature allowed. It was refreshing in a way; made Robin remember the innocence Vlad once had, even if there was a slight painful pang with it.

As he soon discovered, Ingrid had been having words with Vlad's latest behaviour. Will was the one who told him this, as Vlad's face seemed to have gained a rather childlike, petulant scowl. It was amusing, to see him being taken down so easily by his (soon to be) brother-in-law. Though, it did again remind Robin of a more innocent Vlad, one who wasn't so vicious and bitter about all that he did. He hadn't quite forgiven him as to his behaviour towards Chloe, but at the same time he hadn't stopped yelling at Chloe about her stupidity to go out with someone she'd been warned against. No matter how 'charming' he appeared to be. Big brother didn't warn for any stupid reason after all.

Robin got an invite to the wedding, as he was close enough to be family. Or so Will reasoned, adding that it'd give him an excuse to make fun of Vlad; as it was the sister of the Grand High Vampire, he was expected to reside over the ceremony. In traditional dress. Vlad muttered something deeply unkind about this. At least, Robin could only guess it was deeply unkind, he did mutter in Romanian after all, but the tone implied unkindness. Will threw his head back and laugh loudly, responding to the statement with a simple:

"Anyway the blood flows mate." Vampire expressions always did have a small talent of being unintentional disturbing at the oddest of times. It was at times like this that Robin couldn't help but hear that same worrying voice that he used on Chloe echoing in his head, warning him of his own safety. It was ridiculous really, for some reason none of the vampires turned on him for food. He questioned Vlad on this. Vlad has shrugged, saying that he just didn't smell right. Robin wasn't entirely sure whether or not he should be offended about this but decided against taking offence.

It was then that Will asked about the Slayer problem.


	6. Wedding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:So this was finished a lot faster than I thought it would be this little chapter here. Hope you enjoy it!

The wedding took place up at the castle, and was a perfect example of the shining splendour that the Dracula family was entirely capable of. It seemed as though the entire town of Stokley was invited. Actually, considering how long Will's family had lived there, and how many of his relatives stayed there, it was entirely possible. Vlad had issued a strict no biting warning to all vampire guests, something which gave Robin hoped when he heard it, thinking that just maybe the old Vlad was being reawakened. This hope was squashed when Vlad informed him he only really put the ban out because the memory wipe needed to keep breather-vampire interaction at its usual level would give him on hell of a headache.

Robin pointed out how selfish this was of Vlad. Vlad just shrugged.

The wedding itself went off without a single problem, making Robin worry slightly about what Vlad might have done to Jonno, to prevent him gate crashing with an army of slayers. Vlad asked him why he thought he'd done anything, maybe Jonno was just showing an act of good faith. Robin shot back that if that was the case, Vlad wouldn't look so bloody smug. The vampire considered this for moment, before conceding defeat, admitting that he had hypnotised Jonno into sleeping through the whole day, just so that his sister could have a relatively peaceful day. It was the least she deserved.

Robin returned to his belief that there was still a smidgen of the old Vlad left in this new version.

Ingrid and Will's children were, as was expected, definite receivers' of the classical good looks that ran in the Dracula family. They also seemed to have Will's Zen like outlook on life, at least at the moment. Ingrid commented that it was likely to change once they hit puberty, and the more vampiric sides to their personalities started to emerge, but for now it was acceptable. Robin kept reminding himself that vampires took pride in the more violent qualities, and Ingrid was no exception. He did find it out that he would rather that Erika and Rica kept their current outlook, rather than turning into proper vampires. He considered this a sign that he had matured somewhat since first meeting the Draculas. He noticed Magda and Patrick's son Barry there as well. He didn't seem as amused by his niece and nephew as Vlad was, though this was probably because Vlad had encouraged them to never refer to Barry as Uncle, which of course, the hybrid didn't like one bit.

There had been a surprise for Robin though, which showed just how long it had been since he visited the castle. Younger and smaller than Erika and Rica, a small boy with dirty blonde hair was running around with the older three, playing some complicated game of make believe. In which he apparently appeared to be playing the part of Batman. At least, the cape and the constant yelling of the '60's TV show theme song helped to further the suspicion along. It was an adorable sight really, if only because the young boy kept tripping over his cloak slightly.

When Vlad re-joined the party, having had to take time out to yell at his Council about the looks they were giving the breather guests, the young boy beamed, and ran up to him, finally tripping over his cloak properly and landing in a violent, and painful looking, heap at Vlad's feet. Vlad leant down, picking up the boy - who was obviously fighting off tears - and balancing him on his hip.

"You need to watch what you're doing Smurf," Vlad muttered, pushing strands of hair out of the boy's - Smurf's - face. Smurf's face was stained slightly, betraying signs of the tears which he had been so desperate to fight off. "You're meant to be incredibly graceful as a vampire."

"'M a hybrid," the boy said, turning so his head was buried in Vlad's shoulder, "not my fault I tripped. Told you its too long," he whined softly, gesturing to the cloak, which, to be fair, was rather long for the tiny boy. Vlad gave small snort of laughter.

"Get used to it Smurf."

"Vladimir," the Count called, walking over to the pair in his usual grand way. "What have I told you about calling Jack by that ridiculous nickname?" he said, sounding more like an overly strict breather parent than the Prince of Darkness. "It is not a name that should be used to address a Dracula." Vlad gave his father a look that suggested this topic of conversation had come up before, and that Vlad took it as a welcome reprieve from being so formal all the time.

"He likes it," was his only comment.

"'Course he does," a new voice joined the pair, coming over and lifting a delighted Jack out of Vlad's arms. "He likes eating worms if you don't keep your eye on him," the blonde woman laughed slightly, standing Jack on the ground and ruffling his hair. "Don't you little man?"

"Not true Mum!" Jack shot back, grinning widely, "I prefer cockroaches." Vlad laughed, as the blonde woman looked sickened and the Count smirked slightly.

"Erika, Dad, face it, the name's staying," Vlad commented, leaving the pair and moving over to join Robin who was looking on at the conversation with the confusion that Vlad had thought had been left long ago with his 14 year old self. He didn't notice the confused stare that Chloe was giving him, a mix of anger, and pain, as though she had recently done something she knew she would end up regretting. "My youngest brother, and his mother," he explained. "Dad's really going for the whole May-December thing," he added. "She's only in her 70's." Robin blinked.

"Big age gap," he commented lightly. Vlad nodded, grabbing a glass of wine from the table behind them and drinking from it. "Her name's Erika? Doesn't that get confusing with Ingrid's daughter?" he asked.

"Not really," Vlad answered. "Little Erika is over in Romanian mostly, and it's really her middle name. When she's older she'll probably go more by her first name," he explained. "It's just that right now she feels more comfortable using the middle name as her main term of address."

"Oh right," Robin nodded, then, feeling curious, "what is her first name then?"

"Valerica," Vlad responded. "It means forever strong," he added, seeing Robin open his mouth to ask the question. "Ingrid was always poetic in her name choice," he commented dryly, sipping at the wine with the same look of distaste he wore in the coffee bar. Robin looked out, watching the vampires and breather interact peacefully, even to the point of friendship in some cases.

"This is what you wanted once," Robin said softly, still looking out. "This peace." Vlad frowned.

"Who the hell says I want any different?"


	7. Attack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: And here begins the start of the arc ... it's going to be .. erm ... turblent. Reviews are love and love is cookies!

The attack came out of nowhere.

Vlad was positive that he had managed to hypnotise Jonno correctly; at least, he said he was positive, and that was why the security was lax. But that didn't disguise the fact that he didn't seem at all surprised when Jonno showed up with a small team of Slayers from the Guild, stakes raised, all of them glaring at the vampires in attendance.

The silence that filled the room was heavy, no one daring to even breathe too loudly for fear of what might happen because of it. Jonno and Vlad stood on the opposite sides of the room, regarding each other with cold, detached glares, sizing up their competition. There wasn't a single noise to be heard.

"Well … isn't this _pleasant_?"

Vlad's comment is what broke the opposing sides, with Slayers and vampires rushing at each other. Thankfully, the breather guests had long departed, and the only breather left in the castle was Robin, but he smelt wrong for a breather, so was considered an honorary Dracula for the day. The Slayers jumped at the vampires, seemingly not caring who they hurt, as long as this battle ended with the majority of the vampires dust in the ground. Of course, this meant that they were attacking parents in font of their panicking children. And likewise, attacking children in front of panicking parents.

Of course, as Robin thought it might be, Will was the first to notice this, seeing his children cowering under a table in fear of the Slayers. He moved quickly, grabbing Ingrid, now his wife, by her wrist and forcing her away from the fight. He really had change since the first time he was slain. It was fortunate that this group of Slayers seemed to have forgone the high-tech weapons. Ingrid seemed to drop out of the fight at that moment, choosing to flee with Will, if only to protect their children.

The fight raged on, with both sides pretty evenly matched. Robin had thought that the vampires would have the advantage, but what they had in strength, the Slayers seemed to have in sheer bravery. Or perhaps it could be called being total and complete idiots, Robin wasn't entirely sure which term would fit better as both seemed to sum up the Slayers. The most interesting fight, to Robin's mind, was between the two Chosen's. They seemed to be right on the same level of expertise, though Robin could swear it looked as though Vlad was stopping himself from going too far in what he was doing. Which, considering what he had spent those seven years away from Stokley doing, was probably for the best.

Robin was crouched under a table, having been shoved there by Vlad to look after Jack and Barry, both of whom were fighting with each other, attempting to emulate the fight they saw their elder brother taking part in. Speaking of … Vlad looked round widely, having managed to finally shake Jonno off him, sending him crashing into a suit of armour, before dropping to the floor, twitching slightly. He ran over to the table, pulling Robin up and grabbing hold of his little brothers.

"We're going," he told Robin, making it clear that the 'we're' meant all four of them. Robin nodded, grabbing hold of Vlad's shoulder, trying to prepare himself mentally for the sensation of flitting quickly.

There really was no way to prepare a breather's stomach for that sensation. Off they went, into hiding.


	8. Apartment

When Robin came to he found himself lying on a couch in what he could only describe as a ridiculously expensive looking apartment. He could hear the general roar of traffic outside, and the light from the streetlamps outside were bright enough to allow Robin to see around the place without putting any of the main lights on.

"The sleeping wonder awakes," Vlad commented. Robin looked up, finding his friend sitting on the couch opposite him. He groaned as he forced himself into a sitting position, swaying slightly as a feeling of nausea hit him, causing him to groan louder. Vlad rolled his eyes. "It's a side effect. Breathers don't have the stomach to travel the way vampires do," he explained. "You'll feel a low level nausea for a couple of hours, but it'll fade quickly."

"What is this place?" Robin asked, ignoring the sick feeling and focusing on Vlad's voice. "And, where are we? And just who owns this place?"

"It's mine," Vlad answered simply. Off Robin's look he laughed softly. "I've had it for a while now; we're right in the centre of London." Robin blinked, had they really travelled that far in such a short amount of time? "Robin, you do know you've slept through a whole day don't you?" That explained it.

"… I wasn't aware of that fact no," he responded. Vlad laughed softly, as Robin's stomach growled, betraying his own hunger. "You got any food in this place?"

"Nothing that you'd find particularly appetising," Vlad said with a small smirk. Robin glared at him, not appreciating the joke one bit. "… If you stick around and watch the brats I'll go get you one of those fattening chip shop meals you like so much."

"Deal," Robin agreed quickly. Truthfully it was easier to let Vlad go and get the food, he obviously knew his way around the city better; going by the fact that he had his own - pretty big - apartment there. By the 'brats' he was referring to his younger brothers, both of whom were sitting in front of the television screen, watching a DVD that Vlad had bunged on for them before going to get the food. Robin squinted at the screen, feeling somehow relived that it was just superhero cartoon playing.

"Hi Robin," Barry grinned up at him, as he moved to sit on the floor beside them. "Vlad said you'd woken up, but we were to be quiet anyways," he explained. Robin had been wondering why the two hybrids, who he'd been informed normally had to be separate by a cattle prod, had been quiet.

"He put on Justice League," Jack grinned toothily. Obviously this cartoon was a favourite of the two, which was probably a better explanation as to why they'd been content to be quite. Robin smiled at them. "What hero do you like best?" Jack enquired, looking up at Robin with wide eyes. Robin considered the question carefully, not wanting to offend either of them by just quickly throwing out an answer.

"Probably the Flash," he responded finally. This sparked a long conversation about the merits of heroes, and did start Robin wondering why the hell Vlad didn't grab some of the comics out of their hands. (It was his opinion that no one under ten should read Watchmen, but again, that was just his opinion.) This conversation went on for a while, and it wasn't until a few hours later that Robin began worrying about Vlad. Well, not worrying about Vlad, more worrying about what could be holding Vlad up, and what he might do to the object of irritation. Thinking it for the best, he put Jack and Barry to their respective beds - again, not surprised to see that they had their own rooms in this apartment - while ignoring their fairly weak protestations that Vlad never put them to bed, and that they weren't tired. Yes, the constant yawning and inability to keep their eyes open really backed up their statements.

A few hours later, a battered and bruised and bloodied Vlad came barrelling through the front door, collapsing on to the ground with a muttered curse. Robin jumped to his feet, running over to help pull Vlad back up into a standing position. His eyes were pretty much swollen, Robin guessed, and there would be the appearance of two very nice black eyes in the morning. That is, if vampires actually got black eyes.

"Man, what happened?"

"Melech and Strigoi."

This answer made no sense at first to Robin, but he didn't question it right away, instead helping Vlad to clean up some of his wounds. Vampire healing was well known to be something fast, but Vlad's position and powers as the Chosen One made it faster again, with shallow cuts closing almost instantaneously. At least, that was the theory of it Vlad admitted, he'd never really tested it and knew that there were some injuries that would scar, and some things that needed time to heal.

Eventually, he got the story from Vlad. Melech and Strigoi were the effective leaders of the large majority of vampires who would prefer not having Vlad as their Grand High Vampire. Despite their youth - the eldest of the two, Strigoi, had only reached his third century - the two were infamous in the vampire community for their cruelty and cunning; perfect leaders for the golden age that certain vampires wanted.

"So, you've got Slayers hunting you down, your own people hunting you down… Vlad I think this might be a little too big to take care of on your own," Robin said with worry. "I mean, you can't go back to the castle because the Slayers will expect it, you've got to look after your little brothers, and now you can't go get food without getting attacked? You need help man."

"Who would I be able to ask?" Vlad asked Robin. "Out of curiosity." Robin couldn't provide him with an answer. "Thought as much," Vlad scoffed lightly, leaning back on his seat. "I just … I gotta live with this Robin, this is my life now. My un-life. Not a lot I can do about it," he sat back up, thinking it through. "I don't think even getting slayed'll stop me."


	9. Alcohol

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: A slight change from the constant not all that great feeling we've been having lately. We're getting more into the plotty stuff, so consider this to be a light fluffy filler. Review please, as reviews are love and love is cookies and with my insomnia, I need all the sugar I can get please and thank you

"Yes he's eating proper meals, Erika," Vlad scowled, his forefinger and his thumb pressed against his eyes, trying to reason with the woman on the other end of the phone. "I'm not going to let my brothers starve now, am I?" Robin watched with a hint of amusement on his face. "… I'm not going to dignify that one with an answer," Vlad deadpanned, looking for the entire world that he'd rather be doing anything other than having this phone conversation. "Listen, Erika, I've got to go. I'll give him your love okay." There was a pause. "Keep safe," and then he hung up.

Robin allowed Vlad to sit in silence for a few minutes before speaking. "Slayers still staking out the castle then?" he asked, Vlad nodded mutely, frowning at the counter top as though it were saying something that he couldn't quite understand. "Least your family's alright Vlad," he said softly, with an encouraging smile. "Mine seem to be under the belief that I'm a drug dealer of sorts on the run from disgruntled customers."

"Your brothers are dicks, have I mentioned that lately?" Vlad said, coming over to the couch to sit down beside Robin. "And I know, and I'm glad their safe. I'm just a little concerned for the brats," he said. "Mum and Patrick have relocated Paris for a twentieth honeymoon, and won't show up for another couple of months, so that means I've got Barry until they decide to attempt to play happy families again," he scowled deeply, not impressed with his mother's behaviour. "Not to mention, Dad and Erika are staying with Erika's old coven in California…."

"Erika was part of a coven?" Robin asked, surprised. Vlad hand waved the matter, not really considering it particularly important at the moment.

"In and out of them since she was turned. They're with one of the better ones at the moment, but it means I've got Jack until it's safe for them to return to the castle, and you heard the report from Horia, there's Slayers all over the place," he paused. "And what with these new attacks…"

"I knew you were worried about them!" Robin snapped, shaking his head at Vlad. "I told you, it's all too suspicious. The Slayers crashing the wedding, and then Melech and Strigoi jumping you when you were getting food," he nibbled at his lip slightly, frowning as he thought. "Are you sure there's no possibility that they could have joined forces with the Slayers?"

"Absolutely none," Vlad said. "I fought alongside those two in Hungary, Robin. They hate Slayers with every fibre of their being," his voice lower slightly, not really wanting Robin to hear him but knowing it was going to come out anyway. "They took to killing them as a sport … I joined them."

Robin tactfully ignored the last bit, having already explained to Vlad that he'd rather not hear about the bloody battles that had made him the way he currently was. "But even to get rid of the common enemy?" Vlad looked at him oddly, a mix of anger, confusion, and attempting to work something out. "Hey, it happens all the time on the TV, and your life's the biggest soap opera I know," Robin shrugged, "just call it thinking outside the box."

"No, it's just," Vlad began, thinking it through, "you … may have something there. Teaming up with the enemy to stop a common menace," he said it slowly, as if trying to work it all through in his mind. After a few moments, he groaned. "I need alcohol."

There was a silence.

"So do I."

"There's a good place just round the corner," Vlad said, standing up and brushing imaginary specs of dust off him. Robin suspected it was a way of living life without being able to check for a reflection in a mirror. It didn't quite explain how vampires could be film and photographed, but Vlad pointed out that technology had really improved at lot in the past few years, and that a lot of the old traditional are linked to old thinking, and that its highly suspected that's how they got their power. "Come on, it'll just be getting busy."

"Vlad, we can't both go out," Robin laughed slightly, wondering if Vlad had suddenly taken all leave of his senses. Vlad stared down at him, obviously not getting what Robin was trying to say.

"Why not?" he said. "Barry and Jack are asleep, and they're heavy sleepers Robin, you know that," he added, rolling his eyes slightly.

"Vlad, Barry's only just seven, and he's the eldest of both of them," Robin said slowly, clearly pronouncing each word hoping that it would help their meaning actually get through to Vlad. On Vlad's shrug, he groaned. "We cannot leave two kids in here on their own Vlad! I'm pretty sure it's against the law, not to mention it's just wrong!"

"Why?" Vlad asked, genuinely not getting Robin's worry. "Mum and Dad left me and Ingrid all the time, and we've only tried to kill each other once," he said with a shrug. "Which, for vampire families, is a sign of a really strong sibling bond."

"… Your family is _seriously_ screwed up," Robin managed after a few moments of shocked, silent staring. "It doesn't matter anyway, we're not going and that's final."

* * *

"You know, you really are a proper git," Robin said to Vlad as they pushed through the throngs of people at the bar/club. "Using hypnosis to get me out," he shook his head, half in disgust, and half in a deep grudging admiration. "I should just turn round right now and go back to the flat."

"But you won't," Vlad smirked easily, finally reaching the bar. "What're you drinking anyway?" he asked, the bartender in front of him waiting for the order.

"Erm, Snakebite and Black thanks," he grinned at Vlad, who stared back, shaking his head before relaying the order to the bartender. It was a few minutes later when they had commandeered a table before Robin pulled Vlad up about the look. "What is the matter with my choice in drinks?"

"Bit … obvious," Vlad shrug, taking a long swing from his bottle of some kind of beer, Robin never really paid attentions to the different types there were. "You won't believe how many vampire sympathisers drink it," he added. "And Goths, and pretend Goths. I even think Emos and Scene kids were drinking it at one point," he said, musing on the nature of the various different alternative subcultures, and their alcohol of choice.

"Well, I would have had it with Sambucca, but I hate Sambucca," Robin shot at Vlad, forcing back the anger. "And it was through the whole Goth scene that I came across the drink," he shrugged at Vlad's questioning glance. "Despite what you might think, it wasn't really me. I mean, I know I'm all for the dark clothes and dark attitude thing, but, well I guess I grew up enough to see it wasn't me," he said with a wry smile. "So I dropped the label, but I kept hold of the popular drink. It's tasty."

"Huh, interesting," Vlad said, not sounding in the least bit interested. "It was just that I'd pegged you as more of a vodka guy," he admitted with a shrug. Robin laughed slightly.

"I chugged about two, maybe three bottles of the stuff on my own for my 18th," he admitted with a side grin. "I ended up with alcohol poisoning, was in hospital for about a week, and was left with a life long hatred of the drink." Vlad laughed, and Robin couldn't help but join in. "What about you? I thought vampires had that whole 'I don't drink … alcohol' thing going on?"

"Stop misquoting Stoker, Branagh," Vlad rolled his eyes slightly. "Vampires can pretty much do anything breathers do, just that we can't do it in the sun. Well," he paused, thinking, "there are exceptions to the sun thing, but it's hard to explain." He took another drink. "I'm pretty sure there's a clan out in Forks totally messing with the natural order of things, I should get someone to look into it."

"It's funny," Robin commented.

"What is?"

"Seven years ago, you would have never used that phrase," he said. "Now look at you, you take your destiny in your stride. It's like… It's bizarro!Vlad," he smiled softly. "Different, but cool."

"Cool?" Vlad questioned lightly. Robin shrugged his shoulders.

"Beat neurotic panicking over the most nit-pickity detail Vlad," he said fondly. "You've changed a lot Vlad, and don't get me wrong, it's great to see you more confident but… I don't know, I guess I just miss my friend. The one who wouldn't make uncomfortable jokes and hypnotise me to get me out." There was a slightly uncomfortable silence, which Robin broke with a nervous cough. "Anyway, on a slightly happier note, I'm guessing you are currently completely aware of the two girls just behind you who've been staring at you since we got hold of this table?"

"What type of vampire would I be if I wasn't aware of them?" Vlad replied, smirking slightly, glad of the change of subject. "The one with the pink tips in her hair? I keep hearing her muttering to her friend about you," he quietened, leaning his head to the side slightly, before letting out a small laugh. "Yeah, apparently she likes the skinny emo-puppy look you've got going on there."

"Cool," Robin grinned, nodding over at the girl. He smiled at Vlad, before going over to chat with her, her friend smiling at Vlad shyly before going and chatting with a guy who was apparently more approachable than Vlad could be. He didn't blame her; the vampire appeal thing made it impossible for him to have a proper conversation with people; they always turned into a puddle of gooiness. Robin was one of the few who didn't, and Vlad suspected that was connected to him not smelling right, not completely breather.

But still, the whole club scene was alright, Vlad mused, spinning his now empty bottle in his hand slightly. It got him away from his more pressing troubles, at least for a little bit, and he always managed to pick someone up he could have fun with for a little bit. "Maybe I want more than that," he muttered softly, staring down at the table. "Maybe I want someone who'll challenge me, not just blindly agree with what I say 'cause of who I am, and the whole appeal business," he paused, looking up, "and talking to myself is really gonna help me solve my problems," he sighed. "Clearly I need more beer."

On his way back from the bar, he spotted Robin and pink-tipped hair girl under the stairs, arms wrapped around each other and, from what he could tell, both investigating each other's tonsils. He gave a soft laugh, making his way back over to his table, pretending that he didn't notice Melech and Strigoi lurking in the shadows, pretending that he wouldn't end up in a fight on his way back to his apartment tonight.

He sat down at the table, his mind thinking over what Robin had said to him. "Have I really changed all that much?" he wondered out loud.

He didn't get an answer.


	10. Tube Station

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Another new chapter! And we're slowly moving along with the plot/arc type thing. This chapter was inspired by Underworld, but it also was in part how this part was always going to be put across. Enjoy the chapter.

It was raining, and too busy to flit, they were the excuses Vlad gave for deciding to take the tube to Robin. He wouldn't tell him the truth, it would only worry him, and Vlad really couldn't be bothered with listening to Robin's paranoid worried ranting. Something which he knew he would receive in abundance when he told him the truth.

He knew Melech and Strigoi were following him from the minute he left the shop. They stood in the shadows of the alley opposite, glaring at him, not really making an effort to hide; at least, not from vampire eyes. Vlad couldn't help but smirk on seeing them, fighting the instinct to flit, as he knew that's what they expected him to do. He knew the way they worked after all; he'd helped in on many of their attacks. This was one of their particular favourite tactics: present your target with the threat, forcing them into fleeing, making their blood pump faster and easier to find with the sweeter smell that resulted. That's how it work with breathers anyway, and werewolves.

Vlad nodded across at the pair, smirking with a cool confidence that couldn't be faked. He wasn't scared of these two, truth be told, he was almost excited to see what they would try, wanting to drag the hunt out for as long as he could. He turned deliberately in the direction of the tube station, wandering along the street at an easy pace, knowing they would follow him.

He enjoyed the walk, in an odd way. It was somewhat pleasant, pretending he was just another breather, trying to make his way home after a long day. Due to his sleeping habits and the places he was used to frequenting; he wasn't really used to seeing so many different people _sober_. He became aware, just as he was about to enter the tube station, of someone staring at him, and resisted the urge to look out the person, not really wanting to give Melech and Strigoi the change to grab him, as they were closing in.

Inside, the tube station was warm and dry and crowded, and Vlad almost felt a pang of guilt for what might happen. It was a big almost, because the majority of his thoughts and feelings couldn't care less about the breathers surrounding him. He'd decided that his pitying thoughts the other night in the bar came from being cooped up in his flat for far too long. At least, that's what he was desperately clinging to as being the real reason, he'd gotten too used to living without caring, he didn't think he could handle it if he were to regain caring.

The breathers crowded round the openings in the barrier, as though it would make the tube arrive quicker. There was an eerie silence from Melech and Strigoi, and it unnerved Vlad. Breathers or not, they should have made their move by now; they were taking far too long for a relatively simple act. Then it came, a loud, piercing cry: " _Slayers."_

Guns were fired, and Vlad found himself dropping to the floor, dragging a mother gripping on to a small child with him, throwing an arm over them. He could smell blood, knowing his eyes had darkened to black as he felt his teeth expand. A small growl issued from his throat as he crawled over to the bleeding man, pressing a hand against his chest, allowing the blood to pool out over his shoulders.

"No … I can't …" the man was gasping, grabbing up at Vlad, "my wife … my daughter …" he gasped, gesturing over at the woman and child Vlad had dragged down to safety with him. Vlad looked at the pair unblinkingly, turned back to the man, grabbing his shoulder and forcing him down. He was dying anyway, there was no need for the unnecessary pain moving around would bring.

"They're safe."

Those two words relaxed the man enough to even allow him to die with a small smile on his face. Death, Vlad mused, was something interesting to watch. Seeing all the troubles of the person fade away, the muscles in their body relaxing slightly, taking their last gasp of life before settling back. It was always the same in those last few seconds, from the most peaceful of deaths to the most bloody of murders.

When the shooting has subsided, Vlad stood, finding himself face to face - or as face to face as standing on opposite sides of the station would allow - with a leather clad female, who clutched a gun tightly in her hand, signify herself as one of the Slayers. As female slayers went, she was reasonably attractive; with short dark hair framing her face, the pale skin that came associated with most who followed the slaying lifestyle standing out clearly against the black of the leather that she wore. Her eyes were a piercing blue, something that would have been appealing had they not been fixed coldly on Vlad, searching him as though he had all answers for which she was looking for.

This time, he did. He brushed dust off himself slowly, bringing his gaze up to meet with hers carefully. He smirked, allowing her the briefest glimpse of fang. She stepped backwards, as Vlad flitted away, with the Slayer only seeing a dark blur where he once stood.

The other Slayer, a male, walked over to the female with a questioning glance. "It's him," she murmured softly, turning to briskly walk out of the tube station, leaving the clean up to the police. "I'm sure it's him."


	11. Conventions, Old Fiends, New Frenemies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: New chapter! Kelsey is borrowed from, and with the greatest respect towards, dryginous. I recommend that you go and read her fics, as they are brilliant little pieces, with such fantastic characterization. And yes, one of the characters featured is going to become a recurring character. Could you please, if you review, tell me what you think of this character; as I want to make sure they don't become a badly place Sue. Enjoy the chaoter, and please leave a review!

"They want to go to this convention that's happening tomorrow," Robin said to Vlad, "they have costumes and everything." He watched as he flicked through the newspaper with a thick black marker. There was a faint look of annoyance on his face, as though what he was reading was annoying him.

"So take them," Vlad replied, crossing at something in the paper with a little bit more venom that what he would usually use. "You're pretty capable of looking after the brats."

"They want to go with you," Robin said, making clear that he had discussed this issue with Jack and Barry many times, and still got the same stubborn response. Well, they were related to Vlad and Ingrid, the stubbornness was to be expected really.

"And the problem is?"

"It's during the day," Robin said, frowning at the back of the paper that seemed to be annoying Vlad so much. He'd been in the same attitude for the past few days, and he wasn't sure what was causing it. Robin had asked, many times, but always got the same 'it's nothing' in response.

"... Difficult, but doable," Vlad said with a shrug. Robin stared.

"Have you lost your mind?" he asked, in a genuinely curious tone. "Because, last time I checked, an adult vampire plus the sun? Makes for burning times Vlad, and not in a good way," he deadpanned, an eyebrow raised in challenge.

"For most vampires, that's the case," Vlad conceded with a nod of his head. "But, come on Robin, I'm the Grand High Vampire," he rolled his eyes slightly, "I get a few privileges that others don't get."

"Is one of the privileges some kind of protection amulet?" Robin asked, leaning forward with a sense of childlike wonderment.

"You'll see."

 **xXx**

As it turned out, Robin was completely right. Vlad, in his position as Grand High Vampire, had a specially made amulet known as the Gem of Amara. Robin accused that he had lifted the name right from an episode of _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ to which Vlad blinked; he'd never heard of the show in his life, let alone seen an episode of it. This gem allowed Vlad out during the day, he just didn't like using it all that often because – in a stark comparison to his 13 year old self – he didn't want to tan.

"So, erm, pretty big thing," Vlad said rather pathetically, looking round the room. The convention was related to a children's tv show that had become extraordinarly popular. Though it was mainly directed at children, it had found it's legions of fans across the ages. "Bigger than I thought."

"You going to be okay?" Robin asked, looking over at Vlad with concern. Vlad nodded, imitating the art of breathing in deeply. "Sure?" Vlad threw him a scathing look. "Just making sure you aren't going to vamp out and bite everyone here."

"I have got more control than that," Vlad smirked, looking over at Jack and Barry – who were playing some video game that Vlad had not one single clue about – to make sure they were okay.

"Well, well, well, if it ain't little Vladdy Count," a breathy female voice spoke from behind the pair, "an' he's got Branagh with him. Always did say those two were attached at the hip." Vlad winced, as Robin grimaced, both realising at the same moment who the voice belonged to. They turned to face her, knowing that they couldn't really get out of it.

"Kelsey," Vlad muttered sonething unpleasant in Romanaian under his breath before plastering on a fake, bright smile. "Charmed, I'm sure. It's been so long.."

"Seven years, I reckon," Kelsey replied, looking at Vlad with suspicion. "We all thought you'd topped yourself, heard rumours of your weirdo sister killing her fit boyfriend."

"That'd be Will Clarke yeah?" A new voice joined the trio, and Vlad found himself wishing to be locked back in the comforting darkness of his room. Delilah was every bit the same person she had been when they had first met, and Vlad found him stomach clenching unpleasantly at the sight, rather than the exicted feeling it once brought. Robin stepped backwards from the two girls slightly, remembering just how vicious some of their words had been in his last few years at school. "So fit, too fit for her," she sighed somewhat dreamily. "They broken up yet?" she asked Vlad, sneering down her nose at him,

Vlad clenched his fist lightly, making sure that his face remained the picture of calmness. "My sister and my brother-in-law are currently residing in Bistriz, in our old family castle, with their children," he told them, speaking as evenly as he could manage. Both he and Robin resisted the urge to smirk when they saw Delilah's face fall.

"What are you two doing here?" Robin asked, curious. A convention like this was entirely not the type of thing that either Kelsey or Delilah would do. The girls looked between them, before pointing over at a smaller girl, dressed in the costume of one of the characters of the show. She pushed at Jack, trying to get into the game, only to have Barry pushing her back, informing her sharply that she'd get her turn. "...Should we stop him?" Robin asked in a low mutter.

"If you want a particularly vicious puppy bite," Vlad muttered back. "She's … something," he spoke loudly to Kelsey and Delilah. "Your … niece?"

"My kid," Kelsey responded sourly. She looked very annoyed by the fact. "An' before you ask, you do know the dad. "Bloody Davis."

"What 'bout you two then?" Delilah asked, speaking quickly in the effort to stop Kelsey getting into one of her rants about the useless father of her child. "Fans of the show?" she sneered, before smirking as though she'd stumbled on the legendary pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

"Vlad!" Barry ran up, pulling at his brother's arm. "She's picking on Jack and she won't stop and can I bite her to make her stop?" he garbled, looking up expectanly for an answer. Vlad gave it a second of consideration.

"He can't bite my daughter!" Kelsey cried, pressing a hand ot her chest in outrage."Stupid little..."

"Best not Bazza," Robin spoke up quickly, ruffling Barry's hair – something which he knew the boy disliked. The distraction worked, as Barry wandered back over to where Jack was, muttering the most unpleasant words his seven year old mind was capable of in the direction of Robin, attempting to fix his hair.

"They yours?" Kelsey asked. Vlad shook his head.

"My brothers," he explained. Kelsey looked at them.

"You seem like you'd be a good dad," she said, eyeing him slightly as thought trying to determind something. Delilah gave a snort of laughter.

"As if either of them could get a girl, let alone get one preggers," she laughed. "Count the sad one and Branagh the weirdo?" she cackled, looking over at them with a critical eye. "They may be halfway decent looking now, but they're still freaks."

"I dunno," Kelsey licked her lips slightly, looking between Robin and Vlad with heavily lidded eyes, "there's an appeal in the freakish." Vlad stepped backwards slightly, finding himself bumping into another girl. The girl had apparently overheard the situtation, as she linked her arm with Vlad's, taking his hand in hers.

"Darling, there you are," she said brightly. Vlad was slightly amused, as Robin frowned. Of course, he wasn't there at the tube station, so he didn't know that this girl was a slayer. Of course, to be fair, that was all that Vlad knew about her. He almost didn't recognise her. The last time he'd seen her she was dressed in leathers, and looked – to be frank – a bit of a mess, with hair that was sticking togther in clumps from the heat of the tube. Now she was dressed in a rather elegant trouser suit, with her hair neatly styled. "Who are these … ladies?" she said, pausing for a while in the middle of the sentence as she looked at each girl in turn.

"We're just going," Delilah snapped at her, not enjoying the look she was given. "Bye losers," she muttered to Vlad and Robin.

"Stay as sweet as you are Delilah," Robin shot back with a sarcastic smile, giving Vlad a look that suggested he wasn't surprised that Delilah had shown no signs of maturity. "See ya Kelsey," he nodded at the girl, who gave a small smile back. He couldn't help but feel a small pang of pity for her, every guy knew what a creep Davis really was. It was just unfortunate for Kelsey that she hadn't realised in time.

"See ya," she muttered, looking at Vlad with a longing glance before hurrying along to get her daughter.

"So who are you, mysterious and beautiful stranger," Robin grinned at the girl, "who deems us worthy of your help?"

"...Selene," she replied with a tight smile, letting go of Vlad as though she had experienced a sharp shock. "Your friend there bumped into me, and I had the misfortunate of overhearing some of the conversation," her smile loosened a little. "I dislike girls who can't seem to move out of the high school frame of mind when it comes to dealing with people they once knew."

"Thanks for the help," Robin grinned at her. He looked up. "Okay, Jack and Barry are now attacking each other."

"Then deal with it," Vlad said, keeping his gaze level with Selene, who was becoming more of a mystery to him, and yet more guessable by the passing second.

"I'm not your slave," Robin said, but went to Jack and Barry anyway. He knew from his tone of voice that something was bugging Vlad, and this was one of the few times that he didn't want to know any more about it.

"Why did you help?"

"Call it a professional interest," Selene replied, folding her arms and regarding Vlad with a cool air. "For the life of me, I can't seem to recall any truthful recountings of a vampire being out in the sun," she said slowly, "why aren't you dust in the wind?"

"Professional secret," he replied. "Why don't we both go our seperate ways and forget today happened?"

"I agree," Selene said, "but you do realise I'm still hunting you down."

"I know," Vlad smirked slightly, "and I'm looking forward to it."


	12. Exposition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: A rather short chapter, but believe me when I say it's deliberately so - especially when you consider the title of this particular chapter. Enjoy your reading and please leave me a review telling me what you think.

Jack Dracula, as Robin had discovered, was something of an unexplainable computer genius. He discovered this quite by accident; with Jack mentioning playing a game that wasn't due for a UK release for another month at least. Jack, for his credit, had managed to look somewhat ashamed at being found out, but Robin suspected it was only for that reason: he was found out. Though, he was at least pleased there wasn't another black belt; Barry's practice often ended up with something nearly breaking.

Vlad, unsurprisingly, had decided to use his little brother's 'talents' to his own advantage, giving him a sheet of paper and asking him to see what he could find out about a Slayer base either in London, or just outside of the city. Robin wondered if Jack would be able to read the notes that were scribbled on the paper, and at Vlad's glare added that he only meant that try as he may, Vlad's handwriting was not the best; at least not when taking notes.

It didn't take long until Jack was printing off the information they needed, then scampering away to play with Barry on the latest co-opt beat 'em up game they had. Robin had once question Vlad on the fact that he was giving his brothers' games that were really meant for older children, and had only gotten the explanation 'they're hybrids' in return. Robin supposed it did explain it slightly, but it didn't mean he agreed with it in the slightest.

"Dame Selene Hellsing," Vlad said softly. "She's the leader of that Slayer group I was telling you about," he scanned the papers quickly, rooting through the information to see if he could discover what he needed. "Huh, what d'ya know? She's the great-granddaughter of old Abraham."

"Wait, Abraham?" Robin question. "As in Abraham Van Helsing, the guy who stakes your Dad in the novel?" He looked confused. "Now, I know your Dad allowed the use of his name, but I was _sure_ that the Van Helsing in the book was fictional." There was a pause as he considered this information. "What about Van Helstink and Jonno? They related to him?"

"Distantly," Vlad replied. "Cousins of Abraham who didn't change their name during the war." Off Robin's look he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before he explained. "Abraham got made a British citizen after the fight with my Dad, it was actually Dad who got it happening, he had a word with the King at the time," he added with a wave of his hand. "It worked in their favour, I mean, as you know, Dad nearly did die that time." Robin nodded, having heard the true story many a time. "We never did discover what happened to that guy, but Dad found out that he had married to well to do Lady, and started a family. When the war came around, they had to change their surname to stay in favour with the Royal Court, the 'Van' sounded a little too German for their liking. Dad ended up in the same battalion as one of Abraham's kids I think," he mused, trying to remember the story.

"So, Selene's the real deal then?" Robin asked, bringing Vlad out of his musings. "I mean, she's a threat?"

"She might be, I'm not sure," Vlad answered honestly. "From what I'm reading she inherited the organisation Abraham set up, seems like she'll have spent her whole life preparing for that one job." There was a pause. "It's highly possible that - on a skill basis alone - she could take me out."

"What about taking out Melech and Strigoi?" Robin said quietly after a few moments. "You said you had no one to help you Vlad," he shrugged slightly. "Well, maybe now you do."

Vlad didn't look happy at the prospect.


	13. Hellsing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: New chapter. Again, critical reviews are enjoyed, though I do enjoy all reviews.

Vlad looked up at the grand manor with an odd sense of gloating which went along the rather childish lines of: _'Hah, my home is bigger.'_ Though, he did have to admit, it wasn't an unattractive looking place. Large, but not overly so, with that sense of the traditionally English that old manors in this country often had. It was nice enough, just what he thought the home of an inherited vampire slayer slash the main headquarters for their slaying organisation might look like.

They really needed to do something about their security though, anyone could just slip inside.

"... I just want to know two vampires would be hunting another one of their kind!" The now familiar voice of Selene Hellsing snapped. Vlad smirked slightly, walking quietly into the room to observe the situation. "We had all three within our grasps and we let them free! Worse, we harmed innocents!" She gave an exasperated sigh, slumping down behind her desk. "It is my job, no, my _duty_ to protect the citizens of these Isles, but how can I do that if my men keep ..." she sighed again, obviously fighting to keep herself from saying what she truly wanted to. "Dismissed."

"Ma'am, _Selene_ ," the solider said, stepping forward, his voice strangling out her name in what was meant to be an impassioned plea. "You have to stop running yourself into the ground like this..."

"Jones, when I say dismissed that does not, in any way, give you permission to lecture me!" Selene snapped once more. "Now, once again, Private Jones, you are dismissed," she said, glaring at the man, Jones. Jones started back at her, a small twitch in his lower jaw muscles.

"Ma'am," he said through gritted teeth, turning to leave. He paused, seeing Vlad leaning against the doorway, an easy, condescending smirk on his face. Within seconds his gun was pointed on the vampire. "Who are you and what is your business here?"

"Oh? Did I interrupt a little party?" Vlad asked, reaching forward and pushing on the gun so that it was facing the ground. "Word of advice, don't point one of those unless you're completely sure it'll actually kill the creature you're facing," Vlad advised, speaking in the manner he did to Barry and Jack when they were being particularly annoying. It seemed to work, for a disgusted scowl appeared on Jones' face. "These little toys don't do much damage."

"Those 'little toys' as you so eloquently put it," Selene called over, watching the pair with keen, slightly calculating eyes, "are specially designed AK-47's, for the certain nature of taking down vampires, and other such demons. That particular one, that Jones is using, fires bullets made from a melted down cross from St Paul's Cathedral. Blessed by the Archbishop of course." Vlad found himself wanting to step back, if only just slightly, but fought the urge. Never back down to the enemy, because you never could be sure what was a bluff, and what was real. "May I ask what you're doing at my home?"

"Division of information," Vlad replied, pushing by Jones, who scowled once more before leaving the room. He had been dismissed twice already after all. "I have information you want, and," he paused, looking round at the room. "I'll deny I ever said this, but I need help."

 **xXx**

"So they're war veterans?" Selene said, finally lifting her pen from the notes she had begun frantically scribbling, "from the... what war was this?" she asked, looking over at Vlad.

"Războiul de lupi, de moarte, de vânători, şi că ceea ce le uneşte," Vlad said quickly. "The war of the wolves, the dead, the hunters and that which unites them," he offered as a translation. "Basically all out war between werewolves, vampires, slayers, and hybrids. All ordered by Clan Elders, completely out with any sort of reasonable control," he hastened to add. "Melech and Strigoi answer directly to the Elders of their clan, and they've got a hit out on me."

"What makes you so special?" Selene asked, her eyes narrowing at Vlad slightly. He shrugged.

"The Elders take offence to the smallest thing," he said. "I could have just sneezed the wrong way for all I know." Selene stared at him for a few minutes longer, not giving any clues as to whether or not she believed him. "I'll give you the help you need, if you help me find out why they want me dead." There was a silence.

"Deal."


	14. Phone Call

There was a knock at the door. Which, at this particular flat, was a very unusual thing indeed, mostly as, well, putting it simply: they didn't get visitors. After a moment or two of blank stares amongst them, Vlad moved over to open the door.

"Your Grandness."

He then promptly slammed it closed in the face of their visitor.

"Vlad!" Robin snapped, moving to open the door, "okay, see here's where you got it wrong. We do _**not**_ slam the door in people's face. Sorry about that," he said to the – admittedly rather large – man standing at the front door. He frowned. "Pale skin, pointy teeth... Ah." He turned back to Vlad, "I know see why you slammed the door in his face." There was a brief pause. "Shall I just do that now?"

"I'd really prefer you didn't," the man at the door said.

"Sorry, erm," Robin paused, "actually, what's your name?" he asked, realising he didn't actually know the name of the vampire at the door.

"Dan," Dan said, smiling earnestly. "I'm His Grandness' bodyguard," he explained. "He's managed to avoid me so far..."

"Because I don't need a bodyguard," Vlad called over from his comfortable lounging on the couch, flicking through the television with a perfected pose of boredom, that – Robin noted – would haven't have been out of place in some glossy spread of some elite celebrity magazine, showing the latest heartthrob of the masses. Typical really.

"The Council assigned me to you," Dan said, ignoring Robin for a minute to look directly at Vlad. "My Lord, I have heard about Melech and Strigoi, and I have seen them. They are watching this apartment, you are not safe!" Vlad stood up quickly, glancing over at the table where Barry and Jack were sitting, suddenly looking up, quieter than Robin could ever remember them being. Vlad spoke lowly and quickly, hissing in Romanian, mostly things that sounded to be very unpleasant in nature altogether. Judging by the looks on their faces, Barry and Jack were just as in the dark as Robin was, which is probably why Vlad chose to speak in Romanian rather than English. Dan blinked. "... I don't think your father would approve of your language, Your Grandness," he added, remembering that this was the Grand High Vampire he was addressing. Vlad just gave a look in return.

"Who're Melech and Strigoi?" Barry asked, after an unspoken discussion between him and Jack. Vlad looked over at his little brothers, then over at Robin.

"Vlad," Robin sighed, "you're going to have to explain it to them sooner or later," he said. Vlad looked down, and Dan looked over, confused. "Vlad?" Robin questioned. Vlad shook his head once more, before moving to pick up his phone.

"I need to make a phone call."

 **xXx**

Tommo Watson could never quite work out where he had changed from juvenile delinquent to hard working solider. What he was like at 14, it was a completely different person to who he was now at 21, and he couldn't for the life of him work out what happened. Well, maybe he had an idea about it. Seven years ago, when Vlad Count ran away from home and Robin Branagh descended into a depression. He didn't like Branagh; he couldn't even stand the kid, but someone had to stand up for him that time, or else people would have been facing worse than a few months in a Young Offenders Unit.

That was probably the moment that set him on this path, leading him to where he was today. A Captain in the Hellsing Special Forces, fighting behind the scenes to protect the citizens of Great Britain and her colonies from the supernatural threat that may prove itself present.

Well, it paid exceptionally well.

"Watson, I want those reports in yesterday," his boss, Dame Selene Hellsing, snapped at him. "I have no idea if what this vampire told me is true, and I would quite like to know if you found out anything on your patrol which gives me a direction to go in." Tommo often wondered how long it would be before Selene ended up suffering from a premature heart attack, simply due to stress. "Well?"

"Last night, I found the two described vampires staking out an apartment complex," Tommo said, standing at attention. "They moved off before morning, with no attack, as whoever they were waiting for didn't appear," he finished. "We then left," he added somewhat redundantly. Selene sighed, her head slipping forward and banging on the desk. There was the sound of a groan coming from her, but she didn't move her head. Tommo stepped forward. "Ma'am, Selene," he said, changing his mind on how to address her. It got her attention, at any rate. "These two, this wasn't the first night I saw them, and I've seen who they're after as well."

Selene's eyes narrowed slightly. "What are you trying to tell me Watson?"

"I know him, or," he paused, "I knew him. We used to go to school together." Selene sat up, a look of interest on her face. "Count, Saddo Count we used to call him. He was, well, odd," Tommo summed up with a small shrug of his shoulders. "Always hung around with the Weirdo Branagh, that was till he ran away from home 'bout seven years ago." He paused again, thinking it over. "He'd only been in the school just over a year then, came from Transylvania. Heard his sister and her boyfriend moved back out there not long after Count ran away." Selene frowned slightly at this.

"That's, very interesting," she said slowly, opening her drawer and pulling out the file she had on the case. "Dismissed Captain," she said, waving her hand vaguely in Tommo's direction as she read through the notes she had in the file. It was very clear to her that she was missing something; she just couldn't place what it actually was. The phone rang out, and she sighed before answering it. "Hellsing." Her eyes widened. "I'm listening."

 **xXx**

"That's it done," Vlad said softly, hanging up the phone and moving back into the main room of his apartment. Robin and Dan were sitting at the table, drinking coffee and coffee-blood respectively, and Barry and Jack were asleep on the couch. He sat down at the table, sinking into his seat and staring down at the wood with a despondent expression on his face.

"You only discuss this as a possibility, Vlad," Robin said, not looking up from his coffee. "Not to mention, you'd be uprooting them again, and we just got them settled," he added, his voice low so as not to wake the sleeping hybrid children.

"Robin, Dan just told us they're watching the apartment," he said, equally as lowly. "This is meant to be safe, for them and for you. I can't risk them coming in here, I just... I can't, okay." There was a long silence.

"I'll assist in any way I can, Sire," Dan said. "Even if it is just carting boxes," he added quickly, knowing Vlad's distaste of being assigned a bodyguard. "But... when will you tell your brothers?" he questioned, looking between Vlad and Robin – who were exchanging glances of their own.

"Let them sleep Dan," Vlad said eventually, "I'll tell them in the morning."


	15. Magic Does Weird Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: A big thank you to drygionus for letting me use her Vlad and Robin - taken from 'Echoes and Memories'. I recommend you all go read her stuff, as it's well written and very enjoyable. Enjoy the chapter!

As he prepared for sleep that night, Robin felt himself wondering what his younger self would think of him currently. Back when he was 14, he would have never seen his life taking the direction it had; let alone having gone through what he had been through mentally. Would he be impressed, or would he be annoyed? Worried, or even scared of what Robin was going through. With this wondering came another line of thought, one of which Robin had actually thought more than he would care admit, but still... It was a simple enough thought, basic in its structure, but its implications could be larger than he could properly comprehend: what if Vlad had never managed to 'bring back' Will?

Robin wasn't quite sure, today of all days, the thought had re-entered his mind, especially right before he fell asleep, but it did enter it. To him, it seemed like a lot hinged on Will's revival, or was it just him thinking that because he hated the idea of Will remaining slain? He couldn't work out the correct answer to his query, and he highly doubted one actually existed. As such; it was uneasily that Robin drifted off to sleep, tossing and turning, with silent mutterings punctuating his usually still state.

"Robin, get up," he could hear Vlad say, sounding decidedly disinterested in whatever was going on. Robin opened his eyes slowly, his body felt tired, surely it wasn't morning already? He soon saw that it wasn't. "No, I don't know how we got... well, wherever here is," Vlad said, heading off the question that it was obvious Robin was about to ask. Robin instead just rolled his eyes at Vlad's automatic defensive stance, opting instead to look around the place they were both in. Something caught his eye, causing him to blink slightly in disbelief to make sure what he was seeing wasn't just a trick.

"Vlad," he said slowly, "why are the younger us standing over there?" Vlad blinked, turning to look in the direction Robin had pointed. Once he saw what Robin was talking about, he blinked again.

"More to the point, what the hell are you doing with my reflection?"

 **xXx**

The younger Vlad looked around himself in a confused manner. The last thing he remembered was falling asleep in his coffin, wondering why Robin hadn't yet replied to his latest letter, and then he was, well, wherever 'here' was. It was quite, hm, void like was the only description that came to mind when he tried to think of a way of describing it. It was big, and it was a blinding white. He looked around, and a huge grin split his face. Just a little of the ways across from him was the boy who always had a way of creeping into his thoughts at the oddest of moments. Of course, seeing Robin there did make the younger Vlad wonder if he was just dreaming.

If he was it would explain perfectly why what appeared to be an older version of himself was storming over to them, looking murderous. "Get the _fuck_ out of there, now," he growled at the younger Robin, who began to shake, his face pale and shining with sweat, his fringe sticking to his forehead. "I said get _**out**_." The older Vlad's voice rumbled, and then, there was a shimmering outline in the air, standing behind Robin in what the younger Vlad would swear was a menacing manner. "Now. Merge." It was an order, the younger Vlad knew that much, but it was the inhuman tinge to the older Vlad's voice which made his spine tingle unpleasantly. The shimmering figure froze for only a second, before diving towards the younger Vlad.

The younger Vlad dropped to his knees, screaming loudly with the pain, screaming with the images of the memories that were flashing in front of his eyes. All the things his reflection had made Robin do... How could he ever stand it?

"Vlad, what have you done?" the younger Vlad looked up, his eyes filled to the brim with tears, the result of the pain. He swore he could see an older Robin there too.

Clearly, he was going mad from merging.

 **xXx**

"He looks like he's in a lot of pain," Robin said, helping his younger self off the ground. "...Was I really that pale?" he asked, inspecting the younger Robin's face. The older Vlad gave a glare, crouching down to watch his younger self fight with the reflection; his eyes turned an unmistakeable black. "Did it hurt that much for you?" The older Robin asked, looking at the two Vlad's with a hint of concern. The older Vlad frowned.

"I don't remember."

Thinking it best not to provoke him for an answer, the older Robin turned back to face his younger self. "You okay now?" he asked, smiling kindly and trying not to dwell on how odd it was to be talking to his younger self in what was, essentially, white space. "I know this all seems a bit odd, but I'm sure His Grandness will find time to inform us common breathers what's going on soon enough," he laughed lightly. The younger Robin's face paled, that is, if it were actually possible for it to turn any paler. "...You okay?" The younger Robin just stared at the older one, his eyes wide, and shaking with fear.

"It's a sort of withdrawal," the older Vlad answered the unspoken question. "He was possessed by a vampire reflection, and breathers, well, you can't handle that sort of power in you." There was a silence. "I don't think he thinks this is actually happening, and he's got a point, this is part of the Dream World after all."

"But I'm not 16 yet," the younger Vlad spoke up finally, sitting up slightly, looking exhausted. "I can't..."

"We're the Chosen One," the older Vlad snapped, his voice harsh, "the rules can go to hell as far as we're concerned." The younger Vlad looked very ... Well, Robin couldn't actually describe the look on his face, but he was suddenly reminded of two wolves fighting for the position of alpha in the pack.

"If the rules can do that," the younger Vlad said carefully, "then I don't need to go along with them." The older Vlad scoffed, and turned his head away from him.

"I don't think you were ever that bad," the older Robin said.

"That would be because they're not our younger selves." Off the older Robin's look, the older Vlad explained further. "Think those Elseworld comics Barry likes so much," he said, vaguely waving his hand, thinking it the best explanation he could probably give. "Something happened in their timeline to create a slightly different future path for them, diverting from the line we follow."

"You could have just said an alternative reality, you do know that right?" The older Robin said, shaking his head at the older Vlad. He didn't like to admit it, but the explanation did spark off a train of thought in his brain. What was it he had been musing on right before he had fallen asleep? He turned to look at the younger Vlad. "You didn't bring back Will, did you?" Both Vlad's blinked at this, turning to look at each other.

"You did?"

"You _didn't_? What are you? A glutton for punishment?"

"And here's the point I wish I didn't say anything," the older Robin sighed. The younger Robin blinked, staring at the older Vlad as though he were something completely alien to him, but still didn't speak. Robin wondered if he even wanted to know what it was that his younger self had been through. "Question we're not asking," he said out loud, drawing the two Vlad's away from their argument, "is how did they, I mean, how did any of us get here?"

"You, obviously," the younger Vlad said, "you stink of magic." The older Vlad groaned at this, clamping his hand quickly over the younger Vlad's mouth to shut him up.

"You don't stink of magic, but there's a trace of the smell there," he said quickly. "Just... get us out of here, okay?" He let go of the younger him. "If I'm right, you just caused as all to meet up in our dreams, hence our being in the Dream World." There was an uncomfortable pause.

"It means it'll come back to me," the younger Robin whispered. "I'll never get rid of him," he added, pulling his legs close to chest and wrapping his arms around them. The older Vlad kneeled in front of him.

"The other me will try to merge soon, now he knows, he'll try," he said softly, pushing at the younger Robin's fringe. "You just need to hang on a little bit longer."

 **xXx**

Robin woke up with a start, grabbing at his covers. He stared at the wall in front of him for a few minutes, before his fingers ran up through his hair, clutching at his head. Was any of that real? Was it just his deranged mind running away with itself. There really was only one way to find out, he knew that, but it was daylight now. Vlad wouldn't be awake for hours. He lay back, and frowned up at the ceiling.

If the two versions of himself and Vlad he saw were real, he only hoped it would work out for them soon.


	16. The Obligatory Backstory Chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Not the full backstory, of course, but it's the nearest we'll get to it.

_Just after he turned fourteen, Vlad realised his destiny._

 _He had never chosen to, if it had been up to him no one would have ever found out. Not ever. If it had been up to him the previous Grand High Vampire wouldn't have been slain. Despite being the usual way of a new Grand High Vampire being chosen, it was still a tragedy. The one before Vlad had actually been a fairly nice person – as far as 'nice' went with vampires – who was quite fond of gardening, and was able to keep the peace between the warring Council Members. His name had been Igor._

 _He had awoken, or was it risen, from his power-overload included unconsciousness merged. Or partially merged, he never would be quite sure of that. He had fought with his sister, gaining three permanent scars on his cheek as a souvenir, but managed to beat her, knocking her into an unconscious state. He freed his father, and gathered the ashes of the family member – because really, Will was family – who had fallen. He had moved quickly, wanting to be finished before Ingrid regained consciousness._

 _It was not a widely known fact, yet somehow Vlad was aware of it, that a slain vampire could be brought back through a dark and powerful type of alchemy. It was rarely tried, however, as no one vampire contained the strength or determination needed to go through with the ritual. At that moment in time, Vlad possessed both. When Will awoke, he seemed very aware of the situation, simply commenting: "_ _**I'll make your excuses.** _ _"_

 _Vlad ran away from his home that night._

 _He ended up in the middle of a war. Războiul de lupi, de moarte, de vânători, şi că ceea ce le uneşte; the war of the wolves, the dead, the hunters, and that which unites them. He had never really been aware of the fact that yes, vampires actually did fig_ _ht wars, though he learned quickly out on the front line. He was watched over by two vampires, Melech and Strigoi, both in their 300's and both had experience as soldiers. Well, technically Strigoi had been a mercenary. They showed him the best ways to conceal himself, to fight clever, if not fair._

 _He had tried to refuse, wanted to keep up his idealism as long as he could. When someone wants you dead for simply being born, idealism tends to die quickly. He fought and he killed, and he survived. That was really all that mattered in a war. You had to survive._

 **xXx**

 _A year and a half after Vlad had run away, a year and a half he had spent fighting, the Council found him and claimed him out of the war. "_ _**The Grand High Vampire need not fight, not when there are many willing to do it for him.** _ _" He was told, after being placed into the most notable Vampire Academy in all of Transylvania. There he was worshipped, and fawned over, given anything a teenage vampire could desire. They pandered to his every whim, as long as that whim meant he would stay within the grounds of the Academy._

 _Was it any wonder that the day he turned sixteen, he left straight after merging._

 _Of course, since he was officially a vampire on his 16th birthday, he was able to return to the war, to fight and to open negotiations with the other sides. He gained a reputation quickly, as a proactive Grand High Vampire, the one who would do as his subjects would. He won loyalty on the battlefield, but had unknowingly created enemies in his previous friends, Melech and Strigoi. The war came to a close roughly six months later, and another six were spent with Vlad in his office, signing various documents, assigning money to pay for the clean-up of the war, and fending off various assassination attempts._

 _That happened a lot over the next few years actually. It seemed that despite his war efforts, the vampire community did not like having such a young Grand High Vampire, especially one with such radical ideas like integration with breather society. Professional assassins, amateurs, they all came, looking for Vlad's head as their trophy. He was surprised he lasted as long as he had._

 _It was on his 21st birthday that he had done enough to please the Council, and made the arrangements to move his base of operations to the flat he had purchased with some of the money from his inheritance he had gained on coming of rage. Amongst this inheritance was Carfax Abbey. He had debated staying there, but on visiting became aware of how much in the way of repair work would need to be done. As such, he had purchased the flat until repairs were finished._

 _But first, he was going to go home._


	17. Discussions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So this took a while, but woo, it's here! This story is still going! Yay!

The move into the Hellsing mansion went smoother than expected. Vlad put it down to the personal assistant to Dame Hellsing, a Gabrielle Carolan, who greeted both Jack with an awed: "Is that a Batman plushie?" It won her the attention of both child hybrids immediately. After all, only someone who was so very cool would recognise Batman straight off. Vlad and Robin exchanged relived looks at this; had Jack shown a single dislike to the place, Barry would have caused enough trouble to have Vlad staked without trial. Which was not something he wanted to try to escape from again. Once was enough, thank you very much.

Selene, for her credit, did not look too surprised by Vlad being joined by a breather. She glanced briefly at Robin's neck when showing him to his room later on though. Vlad had taken his leave, saying he had business to deal with and would be back before dawn. This had left Selene and Robin standing awkwardly in her office, until she had offered to take him to the room which would be assigned to him. Robin gave a soft laugh at the constant glancing. "The neck's too obvious, you know?" he told her, a smirk crawling on to his face.

"Pardon?" He rolled up his sleeve, showing a bite mark on his arm. Selene looked at it, and then looked up. "Are you his pet?"

"More like his conscience," Robin said, after thinking on it for a few minutes. Selene gave a curious look, and Robin shrugged, sitting down on his bed and fingering the bite marks. Funny how the actual biting hadn't hurt. "Vlad's been my friend for years, and he never used to be this ... cold, I guess is the word for it. It's like, the more he ages as a vampire, the less humanity he has, and it scares him," he gave another small shrug. "So he keeps me around, to keep hold of that small bit of humanity left."

"And the feeding?"

"Sometimes he doesn't eat," was the only answer Robin would give, but his tone suggested there was more to it that he was not going to reveal to her, not today at least.

 **xXx**

"Thanks for meeting me, Vlad, I can't tell you how worried I've been," Elizabeth said. They were sitting in a small cafe, in the centre of Cardiff. She was wrapped up in a hand knitted scarf and hat set in a flattering shade of pink that highlight the vein in her neck, Vlad noticed, before mentally scolding himself for doing so. His friend's mother was not a mid evening snack! "How is he?"

"He's fine, I'm sorry he hasn't managed to get home more often, the job is rather demanding," Vlad said smoothly. The lie was fairly easy, as it was partly the truth. He had managed to swing this meeting – letting Elizabeth believe it was her idea – after sending a letter which suggested he, due to his demanding job in his home country's political system, had taken Robin on in a role of personal assistant. It had made Elizabeth's worry lessen slightly, though Vlad doubted that Graham believed him. "He's currently setting things up in our new premises."

"You mentioned in your last email, yes," Elizabeth said, pouring herself a cup of tea from the pot Vlad had ordered for them. "And he's ..."

"He misses you, he just doesn't let it show," Vlad nodded. He looked out the window while Elizabeth had her tea, enjoying the silence. He had grown to like the silence, it was odd. He used to detest it. "Mrs Branagh, Elizabeth," he said, turning to face her with his most charming smile, "have you ever considered whether or not vampires exist?"


	18. Nightmare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh gods, it's been far too long! Life and so much got in the way and now we finally have a new series and this has become quite AU. Which is exactly what I intended for it anyway, so that's not really a big problem. Chronicles may be on hold until s3 is over, however, while I make sure it doesn't interfere with overall plot plans. I am planning to write s3 compliant fic, so that'll be interesting to see. So, yes, enjoy!

Life at the Hellsing mansion was not exactly anything that could be called a perfect place to bring up children. It could be considered even worse when the children in question were two vampire-werewolf hybrids, both of whom were under 10, and seemed to have an endless supply of energy and special habit of turning up exactly where they shouldn't be at any point in time. Barry and Jack were, to put not to fine a point on it, entirely bored with their new home and wanted to have some fun. It didn't help that they couldn't play with Vlad here – he was always locked up in a room with that Selene lady. He couldn't be their big brother, but he wasn't exactly being the Grand High Vampire either.

On the wall of their new bedroom – and neither party was happy about having to share, Vlad never made them share – was a long list of the many, many places they weren't allowed to go. Also on this list were the staff members assigned to looking after them at any one point; Gabrielle had proven herself a fast favourite, but one of the newer researchers with the organisations – a Liberty Gates – had also managed to win favour with the pair. Sergeant Mark Jones, however, was nothing but a stinky blood-bag who treated them like they were kids.

The biggest problem with the Hellsing mansion, really, was that it didn't smell right. It was too clean, and there was too much silver and the hint of garlic in the air. Barry had long past the point where he would seek help if he woke up in the middle of the night; Magda always had been good at pressing out traits she didn't like; but Jack was smaller, and younger, and the unfamiliar smells just made it all worse. He didn't wake up often, and most of the time Barry woke up with him and was able to keep him company, but he was prone to awful nightmares. Occasionally when he woke up, he would hear yelling, and gun-shots, and he couldn't help but hide under his cover, clutching the Batman soft toy as tightly as he could manage.

One night, however, Jack went looking for help.

It had been relatively routine patrol – roughly three months after they had relocated and roughly two months after Vlad had press-ganged his way into the patrols – but that didn't make the Dracula any happier. Robin winced at the yelling.

"They were just trying to make a new life for themselves!" Vlad snarled, glaring at the back of the young woman who led the Hellsing organisation, as they stormed through the doors into the office.

"By snacking on an innocent couple?" Selene shot back. She was still dressed in her hunting leathers, and there was still that faint coppery tinge of blood in the air. "Call me odd, but that rather seems like falling into old familiar habits," she snapped, whirling round to glare Vlad directly in the eyes. "Or am I 'seeing what I want to see' again?" Ah, so this was a re-tread of a fairly old argument.

"Vlad, maybe you should just-" Robin tried to cut in, but he was ignored.

"The couple were known vampire sympathisers, they offer blood!" Vlad sighed heavily, not tearing his eyes away from Selene's. "Not all of vampire-kind is out to kill all you breathers. A lot of us like you, you're like little meals-to-go in fetching colours," there was a hint of a smirk on his face. "Mind you, wouldn't like to try your blood, it'd probably turn to dust in the mouth."

The cracking noise Selene's palm made against Vlad's cheek rang out in the hall. Vlad snarled back, loudly, but didn't move and Robin moved quickly between the pair.

"That's enough!" he said, holding up hands to keep them both apart. "No, really, it's enough. You two are meant to be working together, not-"

"Vlad?"

The voice was tiny, but Vlad's head snapped round, and within a blink of an eye he was over, kneeling down beside Jack. The boy's face was wet, and a hand rubbed at an eye sleepily, as another clutched around the favoured Batman toy. "I had a bad dream." It was the only explanation needed. Jack was picked up, balanced on Vlad's hip, as he moved in, clinging on to his older brother. "The slayers were after Mum and Dad … went after you too."

"Hey, Smurf," Vlad said softly, "you don't need to worry about me," he smiled slightly, but looked over Jack's head, locking eyes with Selene once more. "I'm more than a match for any Slayer that comes my way." Jack sniffed loudly, clearly not assured by this.

"What about Mum and Dad?" he asked balefully, eyes wide. Vlad gave a look, and ruffled his hair lightly.

"Dad is over 600 years old, he knows how to avoid Slayers," Vlad said. "And your Mum is smarter than him." Jack sniffled again, and curled his head into his brother's shoulder. Vlad placed a hand on the back of Jack's head, shooting a brief glare at Selene before looking directly at Robin. "I'll take him back to his room, get him settled. Can you...?"

"I'll warm a drink for him," Robin said, stepping closer to check on Jack himself. The small hybrid look round at Robin for a minute, before looking back at Vlad.

"An' Robin?" he asked, sincerely. "No Slayer'll take Robin away, right?" Vlad and Robin exchanged glances. That was _new_. Jack reached over to Robin. "'Cause, Robin's ours, okay? We're not loosing him," Robin found himself carrying the small boy, as he clung tightly to his shirt front. "Nope, I'll bite them first."

"It's okay, Smurf, I'm not going anywhere," he reassured him. There was a noise of approval, as Jack burrowed himself against Robin, his breathing evening out as his eyes shut. After a moment. "So, I guess I'll get him settled?"

"I'll bring along some milk or something," Vlad agreed. Robin nodded, and turned away with Jack. Vlad watched for a minute or two, before turning back to Selene. Most of his rage from earlier was gone, misplace slightly by the confusion his youngest brother had caused, but it didn't take long for him to remember what it was that they had been arguing about. "See what I mean? Under your stake without questioning method? You're going to leave someone like Smurf without his family."

"Not all vampires live in family units," Selene said, but her voice held a note of brief doubt. She gave an irritable sigh. "Get your brother a drink. You'll find warm milk works the best, and Gabby bought them curly straws. It'll mean he won't scald himself," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. There was a silence before she spoke again. "Now, if you don't mind. I have work to do. This organisation does have people to answer to, after all."

"How is the Royal Family?" Vlad's tone held a bitter humour. Selene glared, and walked off to her office. He went off to make Jack's milk. Robin joined him in the kitchen less than 10 minutes later. "He asleep then?"

"They both are, Barry woke up as I was putting him down," he explained, grabbing a mug to make tea. "Vlad, what Smurf was saying, I don't expect you to..."

"Smurf's right." Vlad said. "You're family, Robin. You're protected." Robin gave a very dry smirk.

"Only 'cause life without me is _so_ not worth living."


	19. Hunting

It became part of the routine for Robin and Vlad to join the nightly hunt. Well, that is it became part of the routine for Vlad to join the nightly hunt, and for Robin to join the researchers in their highly supplied tech van to do the radar scoping out thing. It was somewhat surprising to Robin just how busy Selene's family's organisation  _was._ Yes, he had been knowledgeable about vampires and other supernatural creatures since his early teens, but he had always sort of assumed that the stories of that community constantly attacking humans were just that,  _stories_. It turned out he was grossly mistaken. (Vlad pointed out that it wasn't so much as mistaken as he was stupidly idealistic. Robin punched him. … He then realised it would help if Vlad at least pretended it hurt.)

That particular evening had nothing to suggest that the hunt taking place would be anything other than normal. They had been called to a forest type area roughly 15 miles from the main mansion, and it had given interesting enough readings on the radar that it seemed as though the whole damn company was being brought alone. Robin leant against the back door of the van, idly scrolling on his mobile. "Oy, Branagh," Tommo Watson approached him, and Robin looked up cautiously. High school may have been long over for both of them, but some scars didn't always heal. Swinging his gun to rest at his side, Tommo took up position besides him. "So," he said slowly, "you're a vamp's … pet?"

"If by pet you mean unpaid live-in nanny, and apparently personal assistant, then yes," Robin dead panned, "yes, I am Vlad's pet." This gained a snort of laughter from Tommo, and then the two were able to stand together in what could almost be called companionable silence. Robin prodded at his phone a few minutes more, before shoving it into his pocket. "Seriously, what are we on the look out for tonight?" He asked.

"Thought you were in with the research lot?" Tommo countered. Robin answered in a shrug, that caused Tommo to give out an irritated sigh. "I don't even bloody know, do I? I'm paid to do what I'm told, not to ask questions." He pulled the strap for the gun, making sure it was secure. "It's rating an 8.5 on Liberty's scale, and that's enough to make the Boss Lady call in everyone who's on active duty tonight," Tommo explained. "So, where's the fanged one anyway?"

A soft thump from the top of the van answered the question before Robin needed to. "Run along, Captain Watson," Vlad's voice was filled with a horrible sort of mirth. "Things are happening, and can't you hear the screams starting?" He pointedly fell silent. Just at the edge of their hearing, the screams began. Tommo immediately moved into a position of action.

"Plan Delta!" he screamed at the soldiers behind him. "Move! Now! Contain and capture. We shoo to stun until we have more intel! MOVE!" He yelled the last at them, running in the direction of all the screams. Robin stood still, watching as all the soldiers ran by, guns held up, boots thumping on the ground as Tommo yelled more orders, running in the direction of the suspected creature attack. Vlad slipped down from the roof of the van.

"That was a fiendish glee on your face," Robin said lightly. "I'm going to guess that you know something that they don't." He could hear a rumbling, as the creature – and Robin was very firmly not turning to look, he had left that curiousity behind with the younger Robin – lurched forward. Then a strange noise, almost like a grating sound, as … Robin frowned. "What the hell is  _that_?" he asked. Vlad tilted his head to the side, a calm look on his face.

"'You think you can stop me with your stupid weapons'," he said, pausing to listen some more. "'I, who have been the terror of millions'," there was a pause. "Seriously? Terror of millions, that's as cliché as the whole children of the night parlour trick," he shook his head disappointedly. "You'd expect more from an upper level one, wouldn't you?" he said conversationally to Robin, who stared.

"Okay," Robin blinked. "First of all, 'upper level'?" He looked directly at Vlad. "That's a," he paused, and licked his lips, finding his whole mouth suddenly very dry. "Vlad," he started again, "are you implying in some way, that tonight's hunt," he paused once more, "that they're going up against a  _demon_?" He wanted Vlad to give an incredulous laugh, to tell him to stop watching those terrible B-Horror movies he was so fond of. Of course it wasn't a demon, that was stupid.

"Essentially, yeah," Vlad's shrug was not at all reassuring. "Got a crash course in the common demon tongue when I was 17," he added, as if explaining how he had been able to translate. Maybe that's what he thought the issue was. "Not exactly what you could call a poetic language, but very good at striking terror into people, which is what they want." He smirked over at Robin, who gave a laugh.

"Of course," he replied shakily. There was a part of him wishing he had kept the cross necklace that his grandmother had given him for his birthday two years previously. He watched, an altogether nervous feeling in his stomach, seeing the usually highly competent soldiers not being able to get a foothold, to get some way of dealing with this demon. Its mouth opened again, and Robin found himself speaking despite really not wanting to. "Vlad," he asked, "what's it saying?"

Vlad listened carefully. "Insulting the company, no surprise, insulting the soldiers, it's cocky, claiming it will lead this world to rack and ruin and will burn that stupid vampire translating him in the corner." Vlad closed his mouth. Robin's eyes widened. "...Excuse you," Vlad said softly, turning in the direction of the demon. Robin turned to look at it. It was huge, and the word huge didn't seem big enough to describe it. It was covered in grey slime, and it's eyes were blacker than the deepest black. Robin mentally winced at the description, recognising it as something from his emo poet phase at about 14. Annoyingly, it did fit.

It was holding off the soldiers with one hand, and causing destruction with the other. Robin found himself wordlessly mouthing ever prayer he had ever picked up his life. "Vlad, leave it-" It was too late. Vlad had taken offence, and the demon had turned t look at him. As Vlad rushed it, it tilted what must have been its head back, giving out a sound that was without a doubt laughter. Vlad jumped, landing on its chest.

The demon continued to laugh, swiping at Vlad like he would swipe at a particularly annoying fly.

Vlad opened his mouth.

Vlad's teeth ripped into the demon's throat and the scream that echoed made Robin clutch his hands tightly to his ears, for fear of them bleeding.

The soldiers fell back to minimum safe distance, which was the van. They watched in mutual horror and fascination as Vlad tore repeatedly into the demon's throat, the black bile that served as its blood coursing down over him. The demon's screams grew quieter, as it became apparent that it was dying. But Vlad didn't stop, tearing into it with his hands, covering them in the black. Robin stepped back warily, his hand reaching behind him to touch the cool metal of the van. Yup, this was real life, and yes, this was actually happening.

No one spoke when Vlad came over, spitting the black on to the ground. He looked a state, and he wiped at his mouth ineffectively with his arm.

"I can't stand it when they're rude," he explained. "Someone needs to clean up the mess," he didn't look behind him, climbing up on to the van. "Make sure the kids are sleeping," he said to Robin, "I'll be back later. I need someone to kill the taste in my mouth." Robin nodded. Vlad took off.

"...Shit."


	20. The Flu, the Cold, and the Phone-Call

Two weeks after the demon hunt, and Robin hadn't exactly brought up the incident with Vlad. Well, how could he even begin to approach it? 'So, I noticed you didn't use your fangs there, and holy crap, I'm actually kind of terrified of you now'? It wasn't exactly the type of thing he could openly say to him. Unless they were both very, very drunk, and that was hard to do with Vlad, what with vampires naturally high alcohol tolerance. Okay, okay, so Robin knew he was really just making excuses to avoid the topic, but … it did scare him, and just  _how_  much it scared him managed to scare him even further. If he brought up that fear, Vlad might try to do something stupid, something noble. Robin couldn't face that. Not now.

Of course, his reluctance to approach the subject wasn't helped by the fact that for the past few days, both Barry and Jack had been running high temperature, and making claims of general discomfort.

"My head hurts," Jack had whined, curling into Robin's arm as if it could cure the headache. Robin placed a hand against Jack's forehead to find him warmer than usual, and Vlad stood impassive in the room. "An' my throat feels all scratchy," the small boy added, whimpering a little and clutching at his favoured Batman plush. He pulled his blanket over himself, shivering.

"Vlad," Barry croaked over at his brother, "Vlad, the room's all … spinning," he said. Vlad moved over, copying Robin's earlier action. "S'cold in here," Barry said, though Vlad's check proved him to be, like Jack was, warmer than usual. "An' I feel all... all..." he paused, and sneezed. Once, twice, three times in a row. He shivered and then on the fourth sneeze, he transformed into his wolf form. Which was really more like a very fluffy puppy, but he was only young. Another sneeze brought him out of it. "...Ow," he whimpered.

They had gotten them both to lie down, Vlad zipping out and back to the room in less time than it took Robin to blink to bring a pitcher of cold water. "It'll be okay," he told them. "You two have a nap. Robin and I will go and get something to make you better." Robin momentarily considered it was probably a good thing that he had long since learnt that Vlad would never ask about bringing him along, but just expected him to follow. It was a good thing, actually, not probably. It meant Vlad wanted him around, and right now, that was the type of thing Robin needed to keep hold of, to keep the darker thoughts at bay.

"Can shifters even catch the cold?" Robin asked, as they browsed the medicine aisle at the local supermarket, trying to find child-friendly cold medications Or at least something that they were more likely to get Barry and Jack to take without too much of a fuss. Vlad shrugged his shoulders, frowning at a brightly coloured box with crude cartoon figures on it. He put the box back on the shelf, and drove his hands into his pockets, irritation clear on his face. Robin sighed, and gave the shelves another hopeless glance. He really didn't think there would be anything here. "What about natural remedies?"

"What?" Vlad snapped, then frowned. "Natural remedies? You mean, like Renfield's potions?" Robin shuddered.

"Not exactly like Renfield's potions," he said very quickly. "But you've got the general gist of things." He waved a hand vaguely at the shelves. "I don't really think any of these are developed for kids that are part vampire, part shifter. It's not really a market the breather medicine providers have looked into catering for." He paused, and a thoughtful look came on his face. "Though, if you ever 'came out of the coffin', they'd probably make a killing..."

"You need to stop watching HBO," Vlad remarked. He rubbed the back of his neck, and for a moment Robin thought he looked far older than the 21 year old he knew his friend was. "I guess it's worth an idea. You get back, see how they're doing, and I'll call Ingrid," he instructed, digging in his trouser pocket for his phone. It was pulled out after a minute. "She actually paid attention to our Potions tutor, so she's got more chance than I have."

"She'll stake you for letting them get sick," Robin commented.

"More trained people have tried," Vlad didn't look up from his phone, scrolling through the contacts to find Ingrid's most recent phone number.

"None of them were your sister," Robin grinned, and Vlad couldn't stop the laugh that came. "You make the call, I'm going to pick up some milk and stuff. I'll see if I can find a comic for each of them, take their mind of the pain for a couple of minutes," he called over his shoulder, moving to the comics section of the store.

"Sure," Vlad replied. He moved to the front door, providing him with far stronger signal strength, and hit the call button on his phone. It took a while – 13 rings – before Ingrid picked up. "Hey, Ingrid, it's me."

"I was wondering when I'd hear from you," Ingrid was as gracious as ever, clearly glad to hear from him, Vlad thought with a wry grin. "I expect you've heard the news? Couldn't believe it when I heard, but I always did think there was something rotten in the wrong way about that girl." She paused for a half second. "I'll expect you'll need to cull the whole bloodline, but what else can be done? Traitors, the lot of them."

"Ingrid, what?" Vlad's earlier frown at the boxes was nothing compared to the one he wore now. "What news?" he demanded. "I've heard nothing, the Council are being pricks at the moment. I'm thinking of decimating it, but can't decide if random would be best or planned to get rid of the ones who just piss me off," he added conversationally. "So, what news?"

"About the Slayer attack at my wedding," there was anger in Ingrid's tone, at Vlad's seemingly having forgotten. He hadn't, but it hadn't exactly been top on his list of priorities. "We found out who informed. You'll take the steps, of course?" It wasn't a question.

"You know I will," Vlad rolled his eyes. "Who was it?"

"Chloe Branagh," Ingrid replied. "Apparently she's been a Guild member for some time now." There was a commotion in the background at Ingrid's aide of the conversation, and she swore under her breath. "I'll call you back," she informed him, hanging up. Vlad stared the phone for a moment or two. He had misheard. He hadn't misheard

"Vlad?" Robin was back, having finished his shopping. "What's wrong?


	21. Foul Moods and Interrogations

Robin wasn't sure what was the root of Vlad's current foul mood but he was fairly certain that he didn't really want to know, if he was being made to be honest about it. Vlad had stormed off from the shops, leaving Robin to try to grab a taxi back to the mansion. He had sort of expected Vlad to be in his brothers' room when he arrived, but there was neither cape nor fang of the suddenly moody powerful vampire. Robin sighed, pulling off his coat, and going over to check on the young boys. Thankfully, they had managed to fall asleep, and were quite peaceful in their rest.

It was early morning, when the door closed, and Robin was pulled from his doze. He started, looking around confused for a moment, before blinking. "Hello?" he called. "Vlad?" There was no response. "Vlad, is that you?" he called again, standing and moving into the shared living quarters that was connected to the rooms they had gotten. Opening the door, he blinked into the darkness, vaguely making out the familiar outline of Vlad, sitting alert on the couch. "Vlad, what's wrong?"

"Have you spoken to Chloe lately?" Robin found himself staring, his hand reaching up for the light switch simply because he couldn't see. He didn't understand the question either, and there was a small part of his mind that considered that light might help the situation. "Don't switch on the light," Vlad spoke quickly. "Simple question, Robin," he added. Robin could feel his stare fixed on him. "Have you spoken to your sister lately?" Robin stepped further into the room.

"Vlad, I don;t understa-" The door went crashing against the far wall, as Tommo and his corps trooped in, guns raised. "What the hell?!" Robin yelled, as he was pushed back out of the way. The light was switched on, and Robin could hear Vlad's hiss as the soldiers of the Organisation surrounded him, their yells echoing off the walls. There was scuffling noises, and Robin tried to push forward again. "Let me through," he insisted, but was promptly ignored.

Through a gap, Robin saw Vlad still sitting down, his head pushed down by a soldier's foot so that he was level with his own knees. His hands were fang-cuffed behind his back, and Robin could swear he could smell a tinge of garlic in the air. Guns were pointed at his head, and all around his person. Vlad's eyes flitted around the room, and there was a silence as he seemed to consider all his options. He sighed. "Well," he said, "this is tiresome."

**xXx**

Vlad had been bundled into Selene's office with out any sense of pomp. He found himself roughly shoved into a chair in front of the large imposing desk, to which his hands and legs were cuffed to. He raised an eyebrow. "Someone's not taking any chances," he commented lightly, eyes studying the metal with a curious air. "Pure silver?" He made an impressed noise, though his voice was filled with scorn "Really. You shouldn't have."

"Like you said," Selene's voice came from the back of the office, and was perfectly even, "we're not taking any chances." There was a pause, and she stepped forward, dropping a plain file folder on the desk in front of Vlad. He looked down at it, before looking up, raising an eyebrow in a questioning manner. Selene took her seat behind the desk, and clasped her hands under her chin. "We've been doing research, Vlad Count," she said, looking him directly in the eye. "You're the Grand High Vampire."

"I'm guessing here's where you want me to deny it," Vlad hazarded a guess. "Or maybe go into classical villain cursing about how you've foiled my plan," he gave a small, bitter laugh. "Not exactly to my tastes, and really not when I'm doing the bondage thing." He looked down at the cuffs, before looking up, a smirk appearing. "If you wanted to tie me up to be at your mercy, you should have just  _asked_." Selene threw him a venomous look, throwing another file on top of his. "And this one would be … what, exactly?"

"Chloe Branagh's Guild profile," was the prompt answer. Vlad straightened up in his seat, looking down at the folder as if its contents were open to him despite the closed cover.

"I'm always the last to find out this stuff," he said. Selene ignored him.

"We sent our best assassin after you."

"Clearly they weren't good enough," Vlad shot back. He twisted his wrists under the cuffs, ignoring the wince that threatened to come when he realised they were lightly coated in a garlic sheen. He bit back the hiss, struggled his wrists continuously, before slumping back. He cursed in Romanian under his breath, and looked towards the wall. After a minute, he spoke. "Okay, so you know who I am. You know that sending the best after me doesn't work," he looked directly at Selene. "I'd call this checkmate, wouldn't you?"

"Why did you come to us?" Selene was seemingly ignoring anything he was saying, until she got the facts she wanted. "You said that there were vampires after you. You're a decorated war hero, by all accounts," she gestured at the files. Vlad gave a shrug of acceptance, neither confirming nor denying her words. "What have you done to make them attempt a political assassination?"

"Like I know," Vlad flung his head back and laughed, very amused by the proceedings. Selene frowned. "Listen, here's two pieces of advice," he leant forward in the chair, fingers grasping the arm. "First, don't use breather logic to try to understand the motivations of vampires," Selene opened her mouth to speak, but Vlad continued quickly. "Even those who have been Turned. When you're driven by a lust for blood, you tend to lose a little bit of that common sense that you walking Happy Meals seem to have."

"What's the second piece?" Selene said. Vlad smirked, and held up the cuffs.

"Get better stuff."


	22. Return to London

He had to leave the mansion in more than a bit of a hurry after the little 'discussion' with Selene. Well, Vlad mused, it was less 'had to leave' and more made a strategic retreat because she was reaching for her favoured gun. The gun that happened contained the argentalium bullets with a holy water coating. They tended to burn a little and he wasn't quite in favour of having bullet holes in this particular coat; it was his favourite. Jack and Barry would be okay, Selene was many, many, things, but Vlad knew that she wouldn't hunt two children. They'd keep Robin as leverage. Maybe he should have taught him how to handle a gun properly. Ah well, everything's clearer in hindsight, isn't it?

It didn't taken Vlad long to make his way back to his London apartment. He stopped off on the way; popping into a nightclub which noise pouring from it to pick up a snack. The breather was tall, blonde with dark lowlights, tanned, with bright white teeth and clearly spent far too much time on his own personal grooming for Vlad's own liking but feeding from him killed some of the hunger pangs. O positive wasn't his favourite, but it would do. He left the breather living; compelling him to forget the incident. He was far too boring to be turned. Wiping the excess away from the corners of his mouth, funny how there was always excess no matter how much of a careful feeder you were, Vlad pushed opened the front door of his apartment. "Your Grandness!" The voice of Dan reached Vlad's ears, and he was irritated to find it was as eager to please as ever.

"Oh," Vlad rolled his eyes, tossing his keys on to the sideboard. "Forgot you were living here," he paused, considering his words. "Well, no, truthfully I'd hoped you'd been slain." He moved into the apartment, looking round. He'd give Dan this, he'd kept the place tidy. "Anything I need to know," he asked, picking up a newspaper from the table and beginning to flick through it. Dan jumped up from his seat, opening a drawer and handing Vlad over a pile of mail. Tossing the paper to the side, Vlad took the mail from his supposed bodyguard.

"Oh," Dan said, digging in his pocket and pulling out a scrap of paper which looked as though it had been there for a while. "And you keep getting phone calls." He squinted at the piece of paper. "From a … Princess Adze?" he glanced up. Vlad had given a visible shudder at the mention of the name, a look of distaste appearing on his face. Dan frowned "Um, is she someone who should be contacting you or …?" he trailed off, not entirely sure how to finish. Dan was a relatively young vampire, he had been turned during the Victorian Era and had been raised to believe women were delicate, frail creatures in need of protection. Becoming a vampire opened his eyes in many ways.

"Technically, I guess," Vlad said. His tone was distinctly unimpressed, as he frowned at a letter he was reading. He shook his head at it, giving an irritated sigh, before scrunching it up and throwing it over his shoulder. "Adze's my wife," he said flippantly. Dan stared in shock. How hadn't he known about this? "Political match, you understand." Dan didn't. "Must be time for us to try to make an heir again," Vlad pulled another face. "Gorgeous girl, but neither of us wanted the damn marriage. We just use it for official things now." Vlad frowned. "That's odd... she called  _and_ she wrote?" He opened the letter.

"Maybe your Lady Wife has grown fond of you in your time apart, Sire," Dan said. He had never really understood the complicated world of vampiric political matches. "Maybe she just wants to see you again?" Vlad was intently reading the letter, his face expressionless. "Uh, oh!" Dan gave a small exclamation as he remembered something. "I've been keeping an eye on the Melech and Strigoi situation, Sire, just as you commanded" he said solemnly, "and I'm pleased to report that they would appear to have left the country." Dan grinned.

"I know," Vlad said. He didn't sound happy. "That's why Adze wrote," his grip on the paper tightened. "They've been …  _visiting_  the family." There was an edge in Vlad's voice that made Dan step back, and when the Grand High Vampire looked up at him, Dan wanted to run and find a Slayer to confess his crimes. "Why didn't you inform me of this earlier?" The Grand High Vampire snarled at Dan, whose mouth opened to respond but no sound would come out. "Don't answer; it was rhetorical." The letter was dropped to the ground, as Dan's half finished mug of blood was picked up and hurled at the wall, smashing on impact. A plate quickly followed, then a large knife found itself sticking out of the wall. It would be comical, if it wasn't for the fact that it had sliced opened Dan's arm as it speed past.

The bodyguard hissed, free hand clutching over the wound in the now hanging arm. "Tell me, Dan," the Grand High Vampire stalked over to him, kicking him in the shoulder of the injured arm, and knocking him further to the ground. "Tell me why I shouldn't dust you right now for your sheer stupidity?" Dan opened his mouth to answer once again, but the Grand High Vampire clicked his fingers and it was as though Dan's voice had been stolen from him. "Because the way I see it, something blindingly obvious was happening and you were too dim-witted to notice!" The Grand High Vampire was raging, and Dan tried to drag himself away. "Why I am surrounded by incompetent fools?" There was a loud, scoffing, angry laughter. "I'll kill you, and regain some intelligence, shall I?"

"It would be a waste of your energy." A soft voice at the door spoke.

Vlad turned around. "Who the hell are you?"

"Bertrand du Fortunesa," said the vampire. "I was supposed to be your tutor." He let his gaze flicker over the scene. "Better late than never."


	23. Revealing Conversations of a Sort

"Tutor?" Vlad gave an undignified snort, but turned away from Dan. He glanced down. "You," he said, looking back up, a scowl clear on his face. "Get gone." Dan listened, speeding from the apartment. Vlad waited until he heard the door slam before he turned back to face this new vampire – Bertrand. "Sorry, but I did the exclusive shitty vampire boarding school thing," he said. "Not really in the mood for repeating any of those supposed best times, you hear me?" He gestured towards the door. "That's your cue to leave, tutor man."

Bertrand didn't leave. "I said that I was meant to be your tutor," he repeated. "Unfortunately, it transpired that certain members of the Vampire High Council chose to remove you from me tutelage before it could actually begin." Vlad rolled his eyes, and snorted. He had wondered how long it would be until Krone and Attila got the vaguest of mentions. "While you did receive a," Bertrand paused, a deliberate pause Vlad could easily tell, "decent education of sorts at the school you were placed in, it would not have been to my particular standards." And a hint of arrogance. Whoever Bertrand du Fortunesa was, Vlad mused, he certainly thought much of his own abilities. "I believe you were given the Praedictum Impaver?"

"That old book?" Vlad gave a graceful shrug of shoulder, jumping over the back of his sofa too laze on it almost artistically. "Yeah, I got it," he tilted his head back, smirking widely in Bertrand's direction. "Thing was blank, so I set it on fire." There was a pause as Bertrand digested this information. To the tutor's credit, his face never flickered. "Watched it all turn to dust," Vlad added, sniffing. "Didn't burn half as well as the books those teachers wanted us to use, but it was fun all the same."

"I had been watching over that book for nearly 400 years," Bertrand said. "It was said to foretell the way in which vampires would return to rule the world like we did in ancient times." Vlad shook his head. "But blank... interesting." He straightened slightly. "Nevertheless, it is my duty to at least make myself known to you, and assure you that I am your complete disposal." Vlad glanced back at Bertrand, eyes carefully taking in every detail over the man, studying him intently.

"How did you know where to find me?" Vlad asked, frowning slightly. "I've not even told the bastards that are meant to be my Council about this place," he added as an explanation. Then, with a sense of humour, "a guy's got to have some privacy, after all." A small smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth.

"The Princess Adze contacted me," Bertrand informed Vlad. He grew confused at the scowl that appeared over the man's face. "She appeared to be … concerned, when she contacted me." He added, as though this would make it all better somehow. Instead the scowl deepened, and Bertrand found himself confused.

"Concerned? Why would she be concerned?" Vlad muttered to himself. He pushed himself up out of the sofa, pacing around in front of it as he continued to mutter to himself. "We've got a good thing going; we ignore the hell out of each other until an official function," the frown on his face grew, becoming a look that can only be described as suspicious. "What's making her show all the concern now?" He paused in the middle of the room, frowning at the floor and biting his bottom lip. He turned back to Bertrand, studying him once more.

"Alright tutor man," Vlad said finally, resitting himself down on the sofa. "I don't know what game Adze's playing, but she's like Ingrid," he gave a shrug. "You ignore her games at your own peril." He looked back up at Bertrand. "One chance. Teach me what I need to know."

**xXx**

"Robin?" Jack's voice was sleepy, and to the little one's credit, it only wavered slightly around all the soldiers, "Robin, where's Vlad?" He rubbed at his eyes as he asked, sniffing loudly. Robin picked up the small child, balancing him on his hip in the way he had seen Vlad do many times before. It was easier for Vlad, Robin realised at the moment, he had all the extra vampire strength to help him out. "Barry said they took him away..." Jack's voice fell to a quiet whisper. Barry, on hearing his name, came over and stood at Robin's side.

"Pointed a gun a his head and took him away," Barry nodded, folding his arms over his chest and shooting an angry look at the nearest soldier. "He shoulda eaten them all. Just stuck his fangs in and –  _slurp_  - sucked out all the goodness."

"Barry," Robin chided lightly. The elder of the two boys looked up at him, daring him to contradict the simple facts as they were to the younger brothers of Vladimir Dracula. "Okay, yes, Vlad could have eaten them all," Robin agreed. "But he wouldn't. He's trying to be a good vampire, remember the talk he gave you?" Barry and Jack exchanged doleful glances, before turning the same looks on Robin. Wide eyed innocence, the looks read, we're sure we're not sure what you're talking about, the looks told Robin, but we'll pretend we remember to make you feel better. He sighed, and sat down. "Vlad isn't going to attack anyone who isn't a threat to him, remember?"

The nearest soldier stirred, giving a loud mocking laugh. Robin looked up, as did the boys, and raised an eyebrow in questioning. It was a particular talent of Vlad's that Robin had managed to pick up. It seemed to work, as at soldier glanced at his comrades, before lowering his gun to speak to the... Actually, what were they? Hostages? Prisoners? Guests? Robin wasn't entirely sure, and a part of his mind didn't want to assign any label to them, unless it be proven correct. "You tellin' me that he didn't fight back against all of us – who had weapons – cause we weren't a threat?" The soldier gave another laugh.

Robin gave a shrug. "Pretty much, yeah." The laughing continued. Robin sighed. "He ripped out a demon's throat with his  _teeth_ , not his fangs." He looked up at the soldier, who was beginning to pale with the memory. "You really think guns are going to prove a big problem to him?" He shook his head. "He let you capture him because he wanted to be capture," Robin explained, then looked down at the boys. "I just wish I knew  _why_  he wanted that."


	24. When Vlad Met Adze

_The Chosen One's engagement and subsequent marriage was not organised by his mother or father, as one might have expected. No, since Vlad had run away from his home at the age of 14, control of him did not fall to his father, but rather to his grandparents. It made sense, they were prominent members of the Vampire High Council, and had been on first name terms with the previous Grand High Vampire. A fine old family, and one dedicated to upholding the standards of vampirisim that seemed to be falling with every half fang that gained a half century. It had been felt, among those in the correct social circles, that the Chosen One was running too wild, that he needed to be reigned in, settled down. Hadn't even his blood thirsty father, the slayer of millions, calmed down on his … arrangement with Magda Westernra?_

_So, it was decided, with Krone making the usual decisions on the behalf of her dear daughter; who was currently in Italy and couldn't possible be disturbed for something as trivial as her eldest son's imminent marriage. The message was sent along to his personal assistant at the office. If it would please His Grandness, the note read, his grandparents do beg his company re: his engagement. Vlad had read the note, and the language that issued forth from the youngest Grand High Vampire to ever sit in the office turned the air blue. "Sire," his assistant had nervously said, hiding behind a clipboard as though it would protect him, "you are yet to turn 18. Your grandparents may still organize such a betrothal." The assistant was promptly fired._

_On the evening of the meeting, in the arranged placed, Vlad was late. Krone paced up and down in the meeting room, looking towards the fine clock that stood in the corner, muttering to herself as she did. Attila sat in his chair, fingers drumming on the side. "Băiatul e prea mult ca tatăl său," he told his wife of many years, irritation clear in his tone. Krone did not roll her eyes, but instead turned to her husband with a fury that only Westernra women were said to be able to manage._

_"Well, of course he's too much like his father!" She spat. "We should have taken him from Dracu-loser on his 13th birthday," Krone said, scolding herself in the action. "Then he might have grown up properly, not run away to become a soldier in some silly war." The disdain in her tone was so very clear, and Attila nodded his head in agreement._

_"Dar toate băieți lungi pentru o lupta buna, dragi soția," he said. "Cine suntem noi să-l nege sângele pofta?"_

_"The only people willing to show him the discipline that he has clearly been lacking!" Krone snapped back. Her husband tendency towards looking on war with that fond memory of violence was doing nothing for her nerves in this situation. Of all the days for her eldest grandson to be late, he had to chose the day in which he was being presented to his fiancée. Honestly. He had no sense of propriety, she would need to beat it into him before his 18th birthday._

_A roar of an engine outside drew her attention, and she did not rush, but proceeded with haste towards the door, opening it. Her grandson sat outside on one of those modern breather contraptions – a motorbike she believed they were called. He was not dressed respectfully at all; looking more like a common feral street fang in his jeans, leather jacket, and scuffed boots. "Vladimir! Come here boy, into the shadow!" she instructed. "Come where you grandmother may appraise you better." Rolling his eyes, Vlad swung himself off the motorbike, stuffing the keys into his pocket and stepping forward. She cast a critical eye over him, and let out an annoyed tut. "You show no respect for your family!"_

_"Really?" Vlad gave a scoff. "When it comes to you, Krone, I've not got much in the first place." There was a hardness in the tone. He shoved his hands into his Jean pockets, glaring at his grandmother. "So, can we get this over and done with already? I've got to deal with refugees from the war in Budapest coming in, and there isn't enough blood in the bank to deal with those who suffered ritual de-fanging." Vlad's tone was always business-like now, but no one ever seen to listen to his words. Krone bit back an irritated sigh, leading him into the room. She managed – through great strength of will – to get him looking somewhat presentable._

_"Nepot," Attila said. Vlad did not comment on how his grandfather's insistence on only speaking Romanian was as irritating as fuck, much as he wanted to. And Krone thought he had no respect whatsoever. Clearly, she was mistaken. "Permiteți-mi să prezinte Adze princess," Attila waved a hand to the side, as the door opened once more. Vlad was pulled to his feet, Krone batting at his shoulders in an attempt to remove invisible dust. Lead by her father, Ramanga, the Princess Adze stepped through the door, lowering the hood on her cloak, and stepping forward to meet Vlad._

_The two looked at each other._

_"Well, I'm clearly hitting above my weight," Vlad commented. There were mutters, and he rolled his eyes. Adze, for her part, gave him a look, smirking at his words. A delicate eyebrow rose, and her smirk was knowing. Vlad smirked in return, leaning forward and dropping a kiss on her hand. "A pleasure, Princess."_

_"Entirely yours, your Grandness," Adze replied. There was silence from the elder vampires in the room, though both Adze and Vlad could feel their anger. This wasn't how a betrothal meeting was meant to go. Vlad nodded outside._

_"Seen the bike?"_

_"Yes," Adze replied. "Yours?"_

_"Mine," Vlad answered. "Fancy a ride?" Adze's answer came in a long, slow, smirk. Vlad grinned. "Girl after my own blood."_


	25. At the Same Time

Gabrielle had been chosen to bring in the necessary things to Robin and the boys. Whatever necessary actually consisted of, it was clearly a lot as she was constantly in and out of the room. Robin would have complained, but the boys seem to react the better for seeing her, and considering their brother wasn't there, well, any small happiness they could get was a happiness at least. "I really am sorry about this," she said, bringing Robin in a large mug of strong, black coffee with a couple of biscuits on the side. Robin nodded gratefully, taking a sip and enjoying the taste. "I don't know what's gotten into Selene..."

"Don't you?" Robin looked up, his tone very even considering that he was effectively in a hostage type situation. "Seems pretty obvious to me," he said with a simple shrug. Being confined to the room, well, he had been given an opportunity for plenty of time to sit and think. He glanced over, seeing the boys happily busying themselves with the pile of comics Gabrielle had brought in for them earlier; Jack had claimed all the Batman, and Barry all the X-Men. Seeing them happily occupied, he looked back at the mug, taking another sip before continuing to talk. He gestured for Gabrielle to sit down, which she did. "Seems to me that Selene's just found out that Vlad's the Grand High Vampire." Gabrielle gave a shocked gasp of horror that Robin opted to ignore. "Took her long enough in my opinion, but Vlad was actually trying to keep the news from becoming public round here." Robin wasn't sure as to the why of that bit. Best not to think on it too hard, that's what he'd learnt. "Anyway, your boss, Selene, well, she's not happy, and now we've – that's me and the boys – we've got to deal with the fact Vlad's left so he can keep flapping around for another night." A shrug finished his sentence.

"He's the  _Grand High Vampire_?!" Gabrielle seemed oddly fixated on the subject, horror still visibly clear on her face. "Vlad?!" she shook her head. "No, he can't be," she said. "He's too … rebel without a cause, bad boy biker type to be the Vampire King!" Robin just looked at her steadily, sipping his coffee. It could do with a couple of sugars, now he thought on it. "Oh god!" Gabrielle sank further down into the seat, covering her face with her hands. "Oh  _god_ ," she repeated, this time her voice sounding more frantic and yet furious and disappointed in herself. She lowered her hands slowly, and her face was pale. She was shaking, and covered her face once more. Breathing deeply, she uncovered again, and looked at Robin with an expression of sheer despair. " _I slept with the Grand High Vampire!_ " she groaned, flinging herself backwards into the seat rather theatrically.

Robin raised an eyebrow, it was very easy for him to take everything in his stride today. Perhaps it was the coffee doing it. "Oh," he said, taking a calm sip. "You too?"

**xXx**

"And it was in the East Blood Wars that the Clan Barrack betrayed their enemies in return for-" Bertrand's voice droned through Vlad's head, and the facts seemed to get muddled up in his head as soon as he'd heard them. He groaned loudly, flinging his head backwards on the couch. Bertrand paused in his lecture – because it was a lecture and Vlad was fairly confident he'd left all that stuff behind when he'd ditched school as soon as he'd turned 16 so he was not pleased to find himself returning to the dreaded things – and looked over. "Is there a problem, your Grandness?" he asked.

"No," Vlad's reply was automatic. He paused. "Actually yes," he pushed himself so he was sitting upright, looking at Bertrand with a hard expression. "Are you honestly just going to lecture me?" He gave a wide eyed look. "Because, I'm not going to lie, it's making my fingers itch for the lighter fluid to see how well you burn." Bertrand's expression didn't flicker, and Vlad found himself momentarily impressed to have someone who didn't react to threats. "I didn't like it at school, and I sure as hell don't like it now. Change teaching tactics, Tutor Man," Vlad ordered. "Or I get far more creative than just simple lighter fluid. And if you've done your research, well," a humourless smile crossed Vlad's face, "you'll know exactly how creative that can be."

Bertrand stood still, not reacting to any of Vlad's threats. Well, no, not entirely true. He did react, but not entirely in the way that Vlad would have expected anyone to react, given the basic knowledge of them having read the detailed file the Council kept on his history – he was still looking into a way to destroy it, he didn't like the idea of any information relating to himself being so easily accessible. Bertrand looked over at Vlad, very calm. "I have done my research," he said carefully, "and that is why I am lecturing you, as you put it." Vlad gave a questioning look. "By all rights, Sire, you are an accomplished warrior already." Bertrand pointed out. Vlad tilted his head, shrugging before nodding. He'd learnt a lot of practical stuff on the battlefield, he'd freely admit that much. "But sadly this has meant your working knowledge of the Clans and their histories is lacking," Bertrand paused once more, a rather diplomatic pause in the scheme of things. "That is not to say that your current scaremongering tactics have not proven useful, but working knowledge is always," he paused once again, "beneficial."

Vlad opened his mouth to respond but instead stopped, ears twitching. "Did you hear that?" he asked. Bertrand looked around, shaking his head. Vlad fell silent, listening intently. There it was again, that shifting noise. He was up like a shot. The door of the apartment was kicked in. Troops stormed in, weapons raised. Vlad hissed, reaching for the nearest one and snapping their neck. Bertrand took this as a cue to fight back, bringing out a kendo stick to use in defence.

From the back of the crowd, Melech and Strigoi grinned two similar, stringy, worm ridden grins.


	26. Dungeons and Captive

Vlad came to in a room that could really only be described by the phrase 'dark and dank', though he did inwardly scowl at his brain for jumping to this horrible cliché of a description. Really, he would have hoped to be slightly more creative than that, if push ever came to shove. He shifted, hearing clanking. Glancing up, he saw that whoever had him captive – and no, he didn't think he was jumping to conclusions to assume this – really did see the point in going all out with the horrible cliché of being captured. Vlad hung from heavy shackles, which could easily hold him off the floor with little effort. "Tch," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head.

"I see his Grandness has finally awoken," the voice that bore no accent spoke lightly. "How did he sleep? Does he find the accomodation to his liking, or is it too barren for his  _refined_ tastes?" The voice was mocking now, a tone suggesting it knew it could get away with it. Vlad glanced back up at the shackles, and mused that it was probably right, more's the pity. These were not exactly the type of thing from which he could easily free himself. "How rude he is, Strigoi, to ignore our kindness and refuse to talk back."

"Oh, I'm sorry, you expected me to respond?" Vlad commented lightly. "I'd just assumed you'd fallen in love with the sound of your own voice again, Melech, and wanted to share your love with the world." He scoffed rolling his eyes. He pulled at the chain of one of the shackles causually, testing the weight. "What's with the heavy metal?" he asked, not looking at his old comrade. He felt that if he paid too much attention to the elder vampire, that desire to rip out his throat might end up coming true.

"We couldn't risk you playing on of your little disappearing tricks on us," Strigoi answered, a smirk clear on his face even in the dark, dank, and dim light of the... well, it was a hole really, calling it a room would be to give it airs and graces it didn't possess. "It's taken us a while to track you down after all," there was bitterness in the tone, and it drew a smirk from Vlad. "Never thought a  _child_ could be quite to adept at concealing himself," and now Strigoi was speaking with begrudging respect and Vlad felt himself on familiar territory.

"Which Clan Elder sent you after me?" There was no point trying to hide his intentions, and the chains clinked as he shifted again, trying to find himself hanging more confortably. "I've probably irritated all of the big ones," he admitted with a shrug. "So who do I need to kill here, Barrack, Lecushka?" He paused, and allowed himself a laugh. "Oh, wait, forget clans, is this another attempt from the Brotherhood to dethrone me?" He laughed louder, shaking his head in sheer disbelief. "I knew they were desperate, but this? This is just pathetic."

"So is thinking yourself important enough to come to the attention of any Clan Elder!" Melech snapped.

"Please, I am the definition of important," Vlad shot back. The chains clinked again. Vlad noticed that neither of the two had chosen to answer his question though, and he frowned just slightly at that. "You two, on the other hand," he let his sentence trail off deliberately, looking at making out their figures in the dim. "So who is it?" He asked again. "You've pretty much confirmed it's not the Clan Elders, and I'm kind of glad 'cause those sods are buggers to get gift baskets for," he gave a theatrical sigh at this, though it was more likely just for the noise than for any practical reason or reason to irritate these people. "So who is it that you two are working wi..." He paused mid-sentence.

"Oh look, Melech," Strigoi snickered nastily. "I think his Grandness has just had a sudden flash of inspiration. How lovely for him." Melech joined in the cruel sniggers. Standard vampire practice, when you got down to it, really.

"Slayers Guild," Vlad said out loud, "you're working with the Slayers Guild." He wanted to be wrong, but then the door opened. Light flooded into the room. In the doorway, he could make out a familiar figure standing beside a not-so-familiar one. The latter was a short, blonde female, with a rough hair cut that seemed oddly flat. But beside her? Vlad's jaw tightened.

"Hullo, Vlad."

"Hullo, Jonno."


	27. Torture

The two stared at each other. Chosen Vampire, and Chosen Slayer, born to be enemies from before either had even had the misfortune to meet. "Well," Jonno breathed out, smirking easily in the silence that fell from his words. "So much for the great 'Chosen One'." He gave a mocking laugh, "you walked right into my trap and you never even saw it coming." Vlad shifted slightly again, lifting himself by the shackles slightly, before resettling. The clanking issued forth. "Uncomfortable?" Jonno asked. Vlad tilted his head, but didn't answer, and any attempt at fake joviality fell from Jonno's face. " _Good_."

"And what trap do you think they've got set for you?" Vlad's voice was entirely too calm for the situation that he was currently in, all facts considered. Jonno frowned slightly, and now it was Vlad's turn to smirk. "Come on Jonno," he said, "you're a smart boy." He nodded at Melech and Strigoi. "You've probably read their files. Do they include what they did to that Persian slayer?" he asked, curiously. "Horrific, yeah, but what they can't do with a corpse isn't worth knowing really," he commented casually. "Artists, the both of them." The slyer girl behind Jonno shifted uncomfortably, drawing Vlad's attention. He eyed her up and down, letting his gaze linger over her. "Pretty little thing," he said.

"She's a trained slayer!" Jonno snapped. Someone was protective. Vlad gave a mocking 'ooh', deliberately shaking his shackles to irritate Jonno all the more. He'd gotten to him already, Vlad could tell. He watched Jonno's gaze flicker between Vlad, and then to Melech and Strigoi. He doesn't know if he can trust them, Vlad realised, biting back the laugh that wanted to come. He thought they were going to keep their word with a slayer. Blood and fog, but Jonno was an idiot. "Melech. Strigoi. Erin," Jonno said eventually, talking to the three others in the room. "Leave us." He commanded. The order was followed.

"Bet you've been waiting seven years to get to say that little phrase," Vlad commented. "You never did explain how the mind-wipe faded, by the way." He shrugged as best as he could manage hanging from his arms. "If you're planning on killing me, least you could do is enlighten me as to how the Slayer's Guild managed to get around it." Jonno began moving about the room, turning his back on Vlad as he worked at something which Vlad couldn't see. "You know, I miss the days when you kept asking me for tips with Ingrid, you would have made the most nauseating couple." Jonno gave a scoff, but still didn't turn round. Vlad was getting bored of this.

Jonno picked up a knife. He came closer to Vlad and began to cut his shirt open. "If you wanted me shirtless-"

"Shut up," Jonno growled, jabbing the knife point into Vlad's stomach. "Your voice is the most irritating thing I've ever had to endure," he said, "and training is really nothing to write home about." He continued his work, ripping the fabric away when done. Vlad stared, but said nothing. He knew what was going to happen. Well, not details exactly, but he had experience of this set up from the war. Melech and Strigoi were really the kind for sharing their … favourite ways to play.

There was a bowl, with a yellow-white liquid in it. Jonno dipped the knife in the liquid, covering the blade in it entirely. Vlad could have sworn it hissed. Jonno picked up the knife and came closer to him. "Now, how about we play a little game?" He began cutting into Vlad's skin.

Garlic juice. That's what the liquid was. Vlad grunted; he wasn't going to give Jonno the satisfaction of hearing him scream.

**xXx**

Hours later, and Jonno had grown bored of carving him up with garlic juice and letting it almost heal only to begin again. Well, even the best games have their limits. Vlad, exhausted, and too sore from the garlic juice to lift his arms, had been taken down from the shackles, and dragged unceremoniously along to a cage made of agrentalium. The bars were coated in garlic sealant They really weren't taking any chances with him. The metal prevented him from using his powers, and he was too weak to fight back.

"They say you're a killer," the blonde slayer – Erin – was standing outside of his cage. She was meant to be keeping guard, but instead, seemed insisted on talking to him. "This great Vladimir Dracula, slayer of thousands," she looked at him. "You're not even older than me," she said. There was a noise, Vlad barely managed to glance up, seeing the keys of the cage on her belt. If he had the strength, it would matter. But he didn't. He began to drag himself over to the bars. "What are you doing?"

"Can I have a drink?" Erin looked panicked. "Of water," Vlad added, coughing. "Throat's a little raw," he explained. Erin nodded, and fetched him a plastic cup of water. She held it out to him, and, with great showing of his pain, he took the cup and sipped from it. "Thanks," he said, "for the water. Not many slayers would be that kind." He tapped the side of the cup with a nail, and looked up at her. His hair dropped in his eyes slightly, and he knew he must look a sight. "It wasn't thousands," he said. "I'm a soldier, not a slayer. Think that's your job."

"I knew you weren't what they said," Erin smiled softly at him. Vlad smiled back. She moved so she was sitting nearer the cage, gesturing for him to do the same. With effort, he was able to. She looked at him. "You called me pretty, earlier," she ducked her head, clearly embarrassed.

"You are," Vlad said, before coughing. "I'm a vampire, I'm not a liar."

Erin gave a soft laugh. "You're not really that bad, are you?" she said. "I bet you're not as terrible as people think."

Vlad gave his own soft laugh. "Erin who can always see the truth," he said, looking out at her. "Is that what it is?"

"I'd like to think I'm a pretty good judge of character," she responded. She tucked some hair behind her ear. With effort, Vlad forced himself into a better sitting position, and carefully reached his arm out between the bars. There was a trail of dried blood running down the fingers, but Erin didn't seem to mind it when he was stroking her cheek.

"You know Erin," he said, looking deep into her eyes, "I think this time," his expression hardened, "you're completely wrong." Erin panicked but there was nothing she could do. Vlad's fingers and dug into her cheek and with one smooth movement, he had snapped her neck. "Irritating know it all," he muttered, shifting again to grab the keys. With some effort – because he was sore, just not as sore as he was making out – he let himself out of the cage. He stretched his neck, and bared his fangs.

"Now," he said, "I'm hungry."


	28. News from the Guild

Selene Hellsing did not often stop to consider her actions with any great wonderment of whether or not she had played directly into someone's grand plans. But, as was often the case in her dealings with Vladimir Dracula, she now had to consider the possibility that it was exactly case in this particular instance. His leaving the grounds of the Organisation had been altogether far too, well, easy, if she was pressed to describe it honestly to anyone. To add to that, there was also the knowledge she had that she knew that Vlad was more than aware that she wouldn't lay a finger on either the children or Robin Branagh; they were the innocent parties in this particular matters and she was not prone to causing injury to innocent parties.

The problem lay in the fact that she had been out played, and he knew had done it, and managed to pull it off for the few months that his brothers and friend had been safely living under their roof – Selene saw no point in holding the false view that the protection was for Vladimir himself, she'd read his file after all. Nonetheless, it irritated her on a truly deep level; that knowledge that he had managed to keep the fact of his being Grand High Vampire out of their information and data banks for however long it had been with what appeared to be only the minimum of effort from him. They were meant to be one of the best Hunting Organisations in the world, and certainly the best operating within the boundaries of the United Kingdom. How could she hope to continue to claim such a thing when clearly that wasn't true, not if they had played host to the Grand High Vampire himself and been completely unaware of the fact?

They had been unaware, that was the point of it all that irritated Selene the most. Vlad had been 'helpful' on missions, which in reality meant that he had been an irritating thorn in her bloody side for months, and yet she had still found him oddly compelling to be around. She supposed it was just part of being a vampire, but she was a trained Slayer, dammit, she wasn't meant to fall for such simple thralls such as believe me or trust me ones that vampires put out almost instinctively. She had found him charming, and even – dare she say it – attractive at some points.

_She had cut her hand on the knife they had picked up from the crime scene. Luckily it was not one to be used in a blood ritual, otherwise there would have been far greater problems to consider but as it stood her only problem was to deal with the sharp, stinging pain in her hand, and to stop the blood flow. Oh, and also to clean up the cut, and bind it before it had a chance to get infected – always a danger around Slayers weapons. She hissed, her uninjured hand pressing down firmly on the injured one, trying to minimize the blood flow._

" _A Slayer who can't pick up a knife without cutting herself?" the irritatingly jovial tones of Vlad's voice reached Selene's ears and she inwardly cursed. The last thing she needed right now was a visit from her neighbourhood annoyance. "Tut, tut, Selene," he said, moving forward and picking up the knife himself to examine it with a bored looking expression. "People might begin to question your competence," he warned, pointing the handle of the knife at her. "It's fake silver, at any rate."_

" _I had rather worked that out," Selene spoke through gritted teeth. This simple cut was really stinging a lot more than it ought, or was it that she was feeling it more as she was trying so hard to not be irritated? " Unless you have any other rather more helpful insights, I suggest that you sit the knife back down again." It wasn't that Selene was nervous about Vlad holding the knife, but was did find herself to be very aware of just how casually he was tossing it from hand to hand, and how much experience and practice such a casual nature required._

" _Better get that seen to quickly," Vlad nodded in the direction of her injured hand, as if she didn't know what it was he was speaking of. "Infection can set in fast in a cut like that," he added unnecessarily Selene fought the urge to roll her eyes. Vlad smirked. Well, that did it. She held out her injured hand in his direction, and he took a step back. "...What are you doing?"_

" _Vampire saliva is one of the cleanest substances known," Selene said matter of factly, "being that it contains no germs." Vlad looked annoyed, getting a lesson on something he already knew. "If I want to protect from infection," she said in a reasonable tone of voice, "then I should get a vampire to lick it clean. Wouldn't you think?" The hand stayed out between them. After a beat, Vlad took the hand, turning it round so the injury was facing towards him. His eyes flickered up to meet Selene's gaze as he lowered his head down, tongue sticking out as he gently licked up the blood that was there. Selene shivered, and it had nothing to d with how cool tongue was. He never broke eye contact._

" _Slayer's blood," he murmured, "such a sweet treat."_

"Ma'am!"

"What is it?" Selene looked up, broken out of her thinking by the arrival of Watson and Jones. Both looked concerned. "What is it?" she repeated, sitting straight in her seat and looking at them, making sure she was totally aware of everything that was going on.

"Report from the Guild, ma'am," Jones said. "Vlad's killed a slayer."

Somehow, she wasn't surprised.


End file.
